“You looked really busy,” I say, a flare of temper rising in my voice. The memories of him seducing every female in the audience from the stage and then signing their bare flesh have me up and out of my chair, quickly gathering my things. “This won’t work,” I say as I try to move past him.
“Whoa, wait. I’m sorry. I should have told you I was in the band.” His arm stretches across my path, and I curse myself for noticing the brawny definition under his tattoo. I stare at those muscles rather than look up at his face. “I knew you didn’t know, but it was awkward … I’m sorry I had to leave you.”
I’m frozen in place. I want out, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling the pull, even though I’m avoiding his hypnotic eyes.
Aidan touches my chin, and I flinch at the heat of his fingers on my skin. He lifts my face so that I can’t help but meet his gaze. “Why did you leave?” he asks, his voice as soft as a caress.
What am I going to say? I’m not going to explain to him that he made me feel special, but then I realized I wasn’t. I’m definitely not going to tell him I’m a virgin who doesn’t want to be his one-night hookup.
I step backward, out of his reach, and fumble for a change of topic. “You’re a tutor here?” I still can’t quite believe it.
One side of his mouth turns up into that gorgeous grin, but this time it looks more friendly than flirtatious. “Yeah. Is that so hard to believe?”
“That you’re a student here, and a tutor, and a singer in a rock band?” My tone lets him know that yes, I do find it all a bit much to believe.
“What can I say, baby? I work hard. I play hard. I’m always hard.” He touches a hand to his jeans and I flinch again. “Especially when you’re around.”
I roll my eyes at him just before my irritation flares into anger. “Give me a break! I don’t have time for this. I’m about to fail my class and I need actual help.” I start to push past him again, this time with more conviction.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He blocks the doorway with his whole body this time, hands up in in feigned surrender. “I was just kidding. I happen to be great at chemistry and I’m the best person here to tutor you.”
“Really? And you’ll actually help me? If I fail chemistry I’ll lose my scholarship, so I seriously don’t have time for any of your cocky bullshit.”
Aidan laughs out loud, and dammit if I don’t love the sound. “All right, no cocky bullshit, all business. Noted. Please have a seat, Ms. …” He looks down at the paper in his hands. “Ms. Paulson.” He gestures to a chair. “What brings you in today? Chemistry?”
I narrow my eyes at him and draw in a deep breath. Does he mean it? Can I trust him? To help me academically, I mean. I look toward the door, then back at Aidan, and tell myself I can always arrange for a different tutor if today doesn’t work out.
I put my bag down and take a seat, and Aidan closes the door and sits next to me. It’s a round table, and I wonder if he should sit across from me, but I guess that would make studying more difficult.
“I’m on scholarship too,” he says as he lays his phone and a notepad on the table.
“Really?” This surprises me quite a bit. Somehow, my mind equated “sexy manwhore band member” with the stereotypical spoiled rich guy who doesn’t have to work for anything. Maybe he understands financial struggles the way I do.
For some reason, knowing this softens my opinion of him a little, but then I remind myself to keep my guard up. If I don’t, I’ll never be able to keep my mind on chemistry. Not the kind I need to study, anyway.
I’m actually feeling all kinds of chemistry every time his knee bumps mine under the table. Is he doing that on purpose? His behavior, at least that taking place above the table, is all professional now. He’s looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to get organized.
I pull out my notes and my calculator, and bring up the current lesson. Maybe Aidan will have the magic touch and finally make this all click for me. Just the thought of a magic touch has me remembering our encounter at the bar, and I have to pull my mind away from the memory and back to the present.
His knee bumps mine once again, completely innocently, I think, but sparks shoot out from the point of contact, and my whole body feels alive. Focus, Amber, focus.
I glance at him and he’s looking friendly and normal, not at all flirtatious, so I launch in. “The course started out fine. I thought I was going to be okay, but then we got into chemical equations and it just all fell apart.”
I risk another quick look at him, then flip through pages on my tablet as I continue. “I’m good at math, I really am, but I can’t even begin to make sense of balancing these.”
Aidan reaches over and taps my screen. Even his fingers are sexy. How is that possible? He backs up a few pages, and then says, “Let’s see. Show me how you would approach this.”
He points to an exercise as he tilts the screen in my direction. I read, fighting my nervousness as I think through the problem. Feeling self-conscious, I start to work and talk through my mental process.
Surprisingly, Aidan helps put me at ease. His expression is focused and patient as I continue. When I get stuck, he steps in with guidance, and though I’m still struggling, his calm manner keeps me from getting discouraged.
Together we work through a few exercises and I start to feel something like hope. I can’t say I’m quite getting it all yet, but he explains things in different ways, and offers new approaches that I hadn’t learned before.
As I’m starting on another problem, Aidan’s phone buzzes. “Our time is up,” he says, silencing it without looking at the screen. “We can work on that next time. Can you come back Thursday, this same time?”
I quickly think through my class schedule and I’m sure disappointment shows on my face when I reply. “No, I can’t make Thursday. What other times are you here?”
“Just Monday and Thursday. Maybe I’ll see you next week?” Aidan slides his chair back from the table and I feel a small wave of panic. I think I was close to making real progress, and a week seems like a long time to wait.
“Oh,” I say, deflating with that single syllable, wondering if I should ask for his recommendation of another tutor.
He pauses and looks into my eyes, his expression thoughtful. I’d been so focused on my lesson that I almost — only almost — forgot how beautiful his eyes are. They’re so penetrating, and they’re almost pretty, with their thick, dark lashes. But he is all man, from his eyes, to the sexy stubble on his jaw, down to—
Aidan starts to speak and I pull my attention back up to his face. “We could get together outside of here,” he says. “You could come to my place.” Then his playful smirk makes a brief appearance. “To study,” he adds.