Teaching Tucker (Face-Off Legacy/Campus Kings 3)

Holy mother of dragons.

“Fifty minutes,” I choke out, the words a whisper on my lips.

He nods as if saying he gets the hint, his eyes leaving mine to read the paper. I watch every move he makes, studying him as I would any other subject.

The editor at the Strickland Gazette has taught me to observe and report. How to spot little cues and tells that help good reporters become great.

My dream is to one day work for The New York Times or Washington Post. That’s why I double majored in law and journalism. A well-rounded education should help when I apply for positions after graduation. At least that’s my hope.

After I snap out of it, I return to entering grades into the computer. Professor Frazier will have a stroke if this isn’t finished by the end of my office hours. He’s very hands-off when it comes to his classes. I’m expected to do everything for him, apart from teaching the class, though I will have my turn at some point. Busy with his law practice downtown, Professor Frazier only checks in with me once a week. And with the clock ticking down, he will be here any minute.

“Time’s almost up,” I say, breaking the silence in the room.

Tucker peeks up at me, pencil clasped between his fingers and smiles. Then, he shoves his quiz across the desk to me, winking. “Go easy on me.”

“You’ll get whatever grade you deserve,” I assure him because I’m not doing him a single favor.

Good looks and cocky smirks aren’t enough for me to make an exception. Tucker has to earn his grades. He won’t get any handouts from me. I sure as hell never got any from anyone. Every single thing I have I worked for. Rich kids like Tucker need to learn that hard work pays off in the long run.

“I can’t fail this class…” he says, “… or I’ll be off the team.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Not my problem. Your grades are a reflection of your effort. If you put nothing into this class, you’ll get nothing out of it. That’s how life works.”

“I don’t remember you being such a hardass,” he says.

“You didn’t remember me at all,” I challenge, now angry with him.

He sits back in his chair and kicks his foot up on his knee, smirking. “Oh, so that’s it… you’re punishing me for doing exactly what I promised.” Tucker shakes his head while looking annoyed which makes two of us. “I told you back then it was nothing more than a hookup. You were okay with it. And now you’re going to take it out on me?”

“Losing my virginity in a frat house was pretty memorable but for all the wrong reasons.”

Horror scrolls across his face. We sit in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before Tucker speaks again, “I had no idea. You didn’t act like a… there wasn’t any… you should have told me.”

He disposed of the condom so fast he probably didn’t notice the blood on it before he sent me on my way. Would he have cared back then? I doubt it. Not after he’d gotten what he wanted. But I can’t pass all the blame to Tucker. I wanted him to be my first for whatever idiotic reason there was at the time. If I had valued myself more back then, we never would’ve had sex. Now, I know better. I know my self-worth.

“I had experience doing other things just never had sex with anyone… until you.” I rise from the chair and straighten my skirt, running my hands down the front of it. “It’s in the past, okay? But don’t expect me to do you any favors just because we were together years ago. It meant nothing to you. It means nothing to me,” I lie. “So, let’s move on and forget it ever happened.”

“That’s the problem…” he says jumping to his feet, “… I can’t forget you.”

I laugh. “You already did. It should be easy to go back to how things used to be before you found me on Strick Net.”

He’s about to speak when Professor Frazier pushes open the door and stumbles into the room. “How come this door is locked?” He shoots daggers in my direction, and my blood runs cold.

Damn it, Tucker. He locked it. And now Professor Frazier is going to chew my ear out over it. We’re not supposed to be behind closed doors with students. Not with how many inappropriate incidents are reported on campus on any given day.

“Umm—” I have no idea how to respond.

“Sorry, Prof,” Tucker interrupts. “That was me.”

Professor Frazier nods, crossing the room to meet us. Then, his gaze shifts to me. “Don’t let it happen again.”

I cringe at the coldness in his tone.

“Thanks for letting me make up the quiz,” Tucker says to me. “See you in class,” he says to Professor Frazier.