Dirty Curve

“I don’t know, but my anatomy class is trash.”

“Try physics, bro.”

“Yeah, well, you’re some kind of fucking genius. You’ll pull an A in the end.” With a frown, I pull my phone from my pocket and open up the message Coach sent to me with my tutor’s email address, quickly jumping over to the other two messages now lighting up the screen, one from Melanie and the other from Vivian ... who is sitting on the couch in my living room.

I lift my eyes to Echo, showing him my screen, and he chuckles.

“Fuckin’ knew she was waiting on you,” he says quietly. “Neo’s been laying it on thick, but that girl has yet to bite.”

“Funny, as far as I remember, she’s fond of biting.” My mouth lifts in the corner.

“You gonna take her up on her offer?”

I nod, knowing I likely will.

Echo shakes his head, smiling like a dick. “You better be careful with that one or she’s gonna think you like her.”

“I like her.”

His head swivels my way again, but I make him wait a solid ten seconds before I meet his pretty boy smile.

“You mean you like to fuck her.”

“One could say it’s the other way around.”

He grins, facing her way again. “Clearly.”

“Trust me, she’s cool, sweet and smart, the type who’d fly quick if I went boyfriend mode.”

“If you say so,” the fucker tries to clown. “So, what happened with the tutor, why you back so quick?”

“It was supposed to be a meet and greet, but we didn’t get to the meet part.”

Echo looks my way. “Why not?”

“She was in Coach Reid’s office when I got there, telling him how she couldn’t tutor me and what not.”

His brows jump. “For real?”

“For fuckin’ real.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know.” I shrug. “But as soon as she realized I was in the tunnel and heard her, she freaked. Grabbed her shit and booked it out the door. And get this, the girl kept her head down the entire time, not so much as a flick of her eyes my way, and trust me, I watched for it. She practically fuckin’ ran out the hall.”

Echo’s eyes tighten, and I’ll give his punk ass some credit—he squashes his lips together to at least attempt to keep his laugh in, but it slips. “She sounds like a real headcase.”

I lick my lips to hide my grin. “You’re a dick.”

“And you’re a pompous motherfucker.” He smiles when I shove his ass in the shoulder and step by him, saying, “she was probably nervous. You can be a handful.”

“Two handfuls, if we’re being technical.”

He scoffs, the corner of his mouth lifting. “When you sitting down with her?”

“Coach said she’d be waiting in the library Friday after practice. Table number two, but I’m about to email her to work something else out.” I look at him. “You meet yours today?”

He bobs his chin. “It’s the same chick I had last semester. I don’t mind hangin’ with her and we know how each other works so it should be pretty smooth.”

“You ever make a move on her?”

“Nah, man.” His eyes widen. “Bringing her into this would be a cruel kind of torture. No way she’d enjoy our crew.”

I nod, pushing a long breath out of my nostrils when Vivian shoots a sly smile over her shoulder.

“Looks like my time has come.”

Echo laughs, pushing my shoulder as he walks away, and I collect the blonde from the couch.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “You waitin’ for me, gorgeous?”

“You know I am.” She smiles, steering us toward my bedroom without pause.

“Sweet dreams, Cruz!” Neo singsongs, so I sing right back.

“Fuck off, Calavera!”

“Oh, I will, son. Twice! Maybe even right here on your couch!”

Vivian laughs, kicking her shoes off as I poke my head out into the hallway.

“TMI, motherfucker!” I shout, closing and locking the door. “TMI.”

I spin to find Vivian already helping herself out of her dress, not requiring or desiring my help. Not interested in pregaming. No flirty fun or fired-up foreplay.

I swallow a heavy sigh, toss my hat, and tug my hoodie over my head.

Typical fucking Tuesday.

q

Meyer

“Your screen’s black.”

I blink, refocusing on my open computer in my lap, and sure enough, it’s gone to sleep, like I wish I could. I must have read over Avix University’s “star pitcher’s”—as he labeled the thread—email a dozen times since it came through.

Does he seriously think my tutoring him means he sends me his work and I do it for him?

I plaster on a small smile and turn toward my best friend. “Hey.”

Bianca stands in the bathroom doorway in a pair of my pajamas with a towel on her head. “When did you get back?”

“Maybe ten minutes ago, loved your version of ‘Work It’ by the way.”

“I’m telling you, how The Voice turned down my audition tape, I don’t even know.” She jokes and steps from the doorway, instantly in the living room.