I skirted around him. Distance was my only ally at the moment.
“How’d your test go yesterday?” he asked, oblivious to the fact that I was secretly wishing for his towel to drop.
For the love of my horny sanity, could you please put on some clothes before I tear my panties off and jump on you? The words bounced around in my head like a rogue Ping-Pong ball. I was practically chanting them.
“Sorry. I’ll go get dressed,” he said, giving me a strange look.
No way, did I utter that out loud? Please for the love of horny bitches everywhere, tell me that was all in my head. Son of a bitch, I couldn’t remember. I was stuck in some hypnotizing dick trance.
I needed to flee the scene while he was in his room getting dressed. That would be the only rational thing to do. Maybe I could tell him I was drunk. By the looks he’d been giving me, he probably assumed that already. I could go home and pretend this never happened. The mental image of his very bare chest floated through my dirty mind. My nether regions throbbed. That alone should have had me fleeing the apartment like it was on fire. Only it was me who was on fire. Damn it, Tressa. Get your mind out of the gutter.
“Tressa, you okay?” Trent asked.
I whirled around at the sound of my name. He was dressed, which was disappointing. No, wait. I was relieved. Definitely relieved. Holy monkey balls, my brain was officially broken.
Now would be the opportune time to use the drunken excuse, or even that I was abducted by aliens. He was a man of science. He would definitely buy the alien story. “I’m fine, just trying to warm up,” I said, taking a deep breath. I was still feeling pretty hot and bothered, but that was for me to know.
“Oh. Let me turn the heat up,” he offered.
Little did he know he’d already done that.
“I was working out earlier, so I kicked the heat down. I hate being hot while I’m lifting weights.”
Too late for that. Seriously, I needed to be euthanized. My brain was a total traitor.
“Right,” I muttered as I sat down. “I hate being hot too.” God, I still sounded like a blabbering idiot.
“So, you never told me how the test went,” Trent said, sitting on the couch beside me.
Normal. Be normal, I told myself. “I got an eighty-three,” I answered, grinning. I may have been currently thinking of ways to punish myself, but I was pleased I was able to retain enough statistics to help me pass my second makeup test of the week. I wasn’t killing it in the grades department, but thanks to Trent, at least I understood what I was doing.
“Not bad. What were your issues?”
“The usual. My brain refuses to accept any semblance of understanding when it comes to ratios. I’m pretty sure when God was creating that part of my brain, he was distracted. I’m guessing by a scantily dressed angel or something.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s sacrilegious to talk about God checking out angels.”
I shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I bet there are some pretty hot chicks up there wearing negligees.”
“Ew, now that’s a mental picture of my grandmother I don’t need,” he said, shuddering.
I patted his hand. “Every angel deserves a playdate,” I teased.
He looked down at my hand. I realized my mistake the moment my skin touched his. The heat I?
??d felt moments earlier instantly crackled to life. I made a move to pull my hand back, but he stopped me before I could retreat.
“Trent,” I warned, tugging on my hand without much conviction.
“Go out with me.”
“No,” I answered, tugging on my wrist again.
“Why?”
“I need to get my dog ready for her space mission,” I answered, grinning. This was not the first time we’d been through this in the last week. Not a tutoring session went by without Trent asking me out. I was getting pretty good at turning him down. Each excuse I threw out was more outrageous than the one the day before.
“Your dog in space. Clever,” he said, smiling.