Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Jeez.
And I’m supposed to tutor him?
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
When I glance up, silently debating how to handle the situation, he shifts on the red vinyl chair he’s parked on. “I, ah, had to read part of the chapter and search for the answer. It took a while.”
Except this response doesn’t even make sense.
Or answer the question.
This is going to take longer than I anticipated, which means I’m going to have to find the time to spoon feed him.
My fingers rise to my temples where a headache brews. “All right. Show me where you found the answer and let’s work from there.”
He clears his throat and pulls the book closer before skimming over the page and moving on to the next. “I, um, actually haven’t found it yet,” he mumbles, a dull flush creeping into his cheeks.
Air leaks from my lungs as I read over the question before grabbing the book and flipping through the section until I find what I’m looking for. There’s no point in wasting time. That’s a precious commodity I don’t have nearly enough of. And I’ll be damned if I allow him to squander any of it.
When I rise to my feet, his brows jerk together. “Hey, where are you—”
I drag my chair close enough for our elbows and knees to bump and brush. If a little zip of awareness skitters across my flesh, I ignore it. “It’ll be easier if we can both see the computer and book at the same time.”
The muscles in his broad shoulders loosen as he nods.
Now that we’re sitting practically on top of each other, the woodsy scent of his aftershave inundates my senses. Instead of focusing on the work that needs to be accomplished, it’s tempting to shift and inhale a big breath of him.
I blink and shove that strange thought from my brain before refocusing my attention on the assignment. “Read over the question again.” I point to the section on paradigmatic assumptions. “This is where you’ll find the answer.”
He leans closer and reads through part of the chapter with painstaking deliberateness.
When a few minutes slowly tick by, I tap my foot, wishing he’d hurry. “Did you find it?”
Instead of answering, he draws his lower lip between his teeth and chews on it as his brow creases. My gaze drops to the movement and an odd sensation stirs in the pit of my gut.
“Maybe.”
Refocusing my attention, I repeat the question, delving deeper into what it’s asking along with the key terminology and what knowledge Professor Nichols wants students to walk away with. Occasionally, I pause and check for understanding. Relief rushes through me when he’s able to parrot the ideas back using his own words. As miniscule as it is, it still feels like a win.
Once I wrap up my explanation, I nudge the laptop toward him. “Now you need to take what you’ve read, along with what I’ve explained, and put it into your own words.”
Again, he pins his lower lip with his teeth before jerking his head into a tight nod. As he bangs away on the keyboard, my gaze flits from the computer screen to his face. It takes about five minutes for him to tap out his thoughts. As he does, I point out necessary corrections or where information needs to be expanded.
When he finally finishes, I read it over again and nod with satisfaction. It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do. “Looks good. Let’s start the second problem.”
He blows out a breath. “Okay.”
We find the section where the answer is located, and I quickly break it down again before rising to my feet. “I want you to work on the answer while I check on my tables. After about ten minutes, I’ll be back to look it over. Sound good?”
As soon as he gives me a nod, I take off.
Every time I walk through the dining room, my gaze is unconsciously pulled to Asher. Now that the dinner crowd has thinned, I’m able to stop by his table with more frequency and check his progress. It’s slow but steady. He’s making more headway since I took the time to go over the material in more depth.
I suppose that’s something.
As I lay the bill on my last table, telling them to have a nice evening, Carmen waves me over. Her attention stays locked on the blond football player as she loiters by the beverage station. I was really hoping she wouldn’t notice him. Guess I should have known better. Her gaze is like a heat seeking missile when it comes to hot guys.
I wince at that internal thought.
If I know my cousin—and I do—she’ll be brimming with questions.
Ones I have no desire to answer.
As soon as I’m within striking distance, her hand snakes out and her fingers wrap around my wrist before dragging me closer. “Isn’t that the guy from the other night? Why were you sitting with him?” Her eyes light up with undisguised interest. “Are you two now a thing?”