Following the Rules (The Script Club 1)

One second, two seconds…

Topher darted off the sofa, blinking like an owl as he raked his teeth over his swollen lips. And why was that hot to me? I couldn’t tear my gaze from his mouth. Maybe that was why I didn’t notice his distress.

“Okay, this is what is called a situation,” he declared decisively.

“Huh?”

“Probably a dire one. Let’s be rational and calm and…I quit.”

“What? No. You’re not quitting.”

“Of course I am. That’s a given. And, um…if we keep this to ourselves and agree to never mention it to George, I would happily forego whatever you may owe me. In fact”—he held up his hands in surrender—“it’s on me. It was nice getting to know you. Good luck with your studies, Simon. I’m sure you’ll do well. Or maybe you’ll play football again. Although I advise against it. Extensive studies have proved that multiple sustained concussions can lead to cognitive deterioration. You need your brain. Brains are important. Brains are good. Do you understand?”

“Uh…” I scrambled off the sofa and hurried after him. “Topher, wait up!”

I caught up to him in the entry and smacked my hand on the door before he could open it.

Topher hung his head for a moment, then turned to me with an overly bright smile. “Yes?”

I stroked my jaw thoughtfully. “Look, I’m not even sure where to begin. You’re not quitting, my brain is just fine, and there’s no reason to freak. It was just a kiss.”

Topher opened his mouth and closed it. Twice. “No, it was a really hot kiss. But it doesn’t matter. I resign and I wish you well.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t accept your resignation, so…cool it. I’ll see you Tuesday. We both have a lot of reading to do. Chapters twenty-eleven and fifty-twelve.”

He cocked his head. “You’re being purposely obtuse, which I appreciate, but we both know this isn’t going to work. And I know I’m to blame. I initiated contact. I’m completely guilty of kissing you without your consent. That’s not okay.”

“I didn’t mind!” I pushed my hand through my hair to keep myself from pointing at the bulge in my jeans. “No harm, no foul.”

“Is it, though? I saw your adult entertainment. I feel like a voyeur or a snooper who unwittingly found your sex toy collection.”

“Unless you were in my bedroom, you didn’t find it, so relax.”

“You have a sex toy collection?” he whispered.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Topher gave an agitated shrug. “Yes, no…maybe. What do you have?”

I bit my lip, stifling a laugh. “Handcuffs, a paddle…you know, the usual. Do you want to see?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I’ve seen enough.” He white-knuckled the strap over his shoulder as he inclined his head toward the adjoining great room.

“That’s one of my faves. It’s a classic. The commanding officer takes no bullshit and gets right to business when the ranks step out of line.”

“Ahh, right…role-playing.”

“Ha. Exactly.” I smiled, swiping my sweaty hands on my T-shirt before I spoke again. “Hey, maybe we should just forget the last ten or fifteen minutes happened.”

“Yes. Good thinking.” Topher bit his lip and opened the door. “Well, I really must go. It’s a long drive.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

He looked like he might argue, but he nodded instead, then disappeared through the courtyard. I leaned against the doorjamb, staring at the iron gate as it clicked shut behind him.

What the fuck did I just do?

The text I received later the next morning didn’t come as a total surprise.

I regret to inform you that I’m unable to continue as your academic assistant. I can help you find a replacement if needed. I wish you well. Thank you, Topher

I pressed Call without thinking. Of course, he didn’t pick up. I glowered at my cell and left a message.

“Christopher, don’t leave me hanging. I need you. And by the way, you signed your text message. You’re not supposed to do that,” I huffed in exasperation. “Call me back.”

He didn’t.

I tried my brother, who also didn’t answer his phone. Ugh. Brainiacs.

I considered my options as I poured a cup of coffee. This wasn’t a matter of life or death. I could find a tutor on campus and pay extra for confidentiality purposes. I wouldn’t want a stranger in my house, though. That was one of the benefits of hiring Topher. George was very selective about his friends. If my brother trusted him, I knew I could too. And no, I wasn’t famous. I was just…paranoid.

A mediocre psychologist could tell you I was in my own head. That made sense. I’d never felt more isolated or alone in my life. I couldn’t stand my own company. I lived in a gorgeous place with incredible views, but my brain wasn’t a fun place to be.

I kept myself busy surfing and jogging, then spent hours at the gym before torturing myself watching old football videos. I analyzed every mistake I’d ever made on the field while waiting for my agent to call, offering one more shot. Occasionally, I opened an anthropology, humanities, or psych book, thinking I should be mentally prepared to go through with this “back to school” idea. But I didn’t touch calculus. No one needed that kind of negativity.