I’ve seen the way some of the other guys eye her up in class like she’s a juicy steak they want to sink their teeth into. Sitting next to her every class period is my way of staking my claim. Maybe she doesn’t realize what I’m doing, but yeah...that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ll be damned if some other dude hits on her right in front of my face.
I can’t imagine Demi would be overly thrilled if she realized my intentions.
From what I can tell, I rub her the wrong way. It’s been like that ever since I met her the summer before freshman year of high school. I’ve never seen any girl go to such great lengths to avoid coming in contact with me. It would be funny if it weren’t so damn sad. She’s friendly enough with most the other guys on the team, but with me, she’s always careful to maintain a distance. Like I’m a leper fresh from the colony. I can’t get most of the girls on this campus to leave me alone and yet, like Brayden said, she won’t give me the time of day.
As much as I hate talking about stats, I’d rather discuss that than the hard-on I sport anytime his daughter is near. I drag a hand through my damp hair and shove it out of my eyes before shifting on the chair. Even thinking about her is enough to give me wood. “Yeah, I need to put a little more time into that class. The last quiz didn’t go so well.”
That’s an understatement.
Homework is the only thing saving my ass right now.
And it’s not by much.
Coach shakes his head and points to my hair. “You got a real mop going on there, Michaels. Maybe you should consider cutting it.” A smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “I got a razor around here somewhere. I’d be more than happy to buzz it off right now. All you have to do is say the word.”
The familiar conversation settles something inside me, and I smile. “Nah. If I cut the hair, I’ll lose all my power. You really want to be responsible for that?”
He snorts and pulls off his ball cap, plowing his fingers through his thinning strands. “Must be what happened to me.” He clears his throat and shuffles the papers in front of him. “If you can’t get this grade up, you won’t have to worry about your power. You’ll spend part of the season riding the bench.” He raises a brow. “I can’t imagine you want that to happen.”
“Nope.” The thought is enough to have my blood curdling in my veins. With the upcoming draft, all eyes will be on me this season. I need to be stacking up those passing yards and lead the conference in touchdowns which will help me win a Heisman.
“Good. Let’s nip this in the bud before it gets any further out of hand.”
I tilt my head. “How are we going to do that?”
With a grin, he stabs a finger at me from across the desk. “I’m glad you asked.”
Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.
“I found a tutor for you.”
Great. The last thing I want is to work with some starstruck fan who is more interested in riding my dick than improving my stats grade. Been there, done that. Not interested in a repeat performance.
Before I can ask if there are other options we can consider, he continues. “Demi has agreed to tutor you for the next month or so. With a little hard work, there’s no reason you can’t lift that grade.”
Fuck. That’s even worse.
Everything inside me goes whipcord tight. “Demi?”
“You two are in the same section, right?”
“Ummm, yeah. She’s in there.”
He tosses the folder onto the desk and claps his hands together like he solved both world peace and hunger in one fell swoop. “Then it works out perfectly.”
I wouldn’t go that far. Even though I’d like nothing more than to spend a little alone time with his daughter, it’s a shit idea. I can barely keep it together when she’s sitting next to me in class. Working one-on-one will probably kill me. Or I’ll break the promise I made to myself long ago to keep my hands off her.
My mind goes to what transpired in the kitchen last night. It took every ounce of my willpower not to haul her into my arms and kiss her. I’m walking a thin line here. I’ve done my best to bury my feelings for Demi, but it hasn’t done a damn bit of good. If anything, they’ve only continued to grow and flourish. Seven years is a long time to hold a torch for a girl. At some point, the dam is going to burst, and all hell will break loose.
That’s not something I want to happen.