Excerpt:
His finger moved down to the next and final bullet point on the list. And when my gaze ran across the words he had typed there, I wondered if I was seeing things because I couldn't believe what I was reading.
I looked up at him with wide eyes. "You have a rule about not dating the people you tutor?"
He frowned momentarily as he read over the last rule, as if he couldn't remember what he'd written.
After a short pause, he pressed his lips together and tilted his head back up to look me in the eyes. "Ah yes, the most important rule of all."
"The most important rule?" I furrowed my brow, so confused why such a rule was even necessary in the first place. "Is this your way of saying you'd never deign to fraternize with people who need tutoring?"
Was his talk about understanding what it was like to struggle with something all just an act, and he was actually silently judging me for my stupidity?
Were people who admitted that they actually needed help somehow inferior to this "Mr. You Can't Date Me?"
And to think I'd just thought he was as dazzling as Edward Cullen a minute ago.
Ugh. Looks could be so deceiving sometimes.
The arrogance that it would take for someone to actually write that rule down was mind-boggling to me.
"I can see you think I'm a pompous jerk for even listing that last rule," he said, picking up on the shift in my mood. "But…" He paused, seeming to think. Then as if remembering something, he continued, "I can't tell you how many girls have pretended to be bad at math just to work one on one with me."
Seriously?
Sure, he was obviously hot. But who in their right mind would choose to do more math if they didn't have to?
Even I wasn't that dumb.
I shook my head. "Well, lucky for you and unluckily for me, I actually am terrible at math," I said. "I mean, they only let me come to this school if I promised to have tutoring right from the start."
"So…you're not going to try to date me?" He arched an eyebrow, as if he was actually worried I wanted to jump his bones.
And sure, maybe I'd gotten lost in his eyes for a few seconds here and there. But that was just because his eyes were interesting: light against his tan skin and full of secrets.
I definitely didn't want to drown in them or anything.
I sat up straighter, and in the most indifferent tone I could muster, I said, "I'm not interested in dating you. I'm just using you to keep my grades up."
"You're sure about that?" He narrowed his gaze, clearly not believing the words I'd just spoken. "Because we'll be spending a lot of time with each other and I don't want this to become an issue."
Okay, wow. He certainly had a high opinion of himself.
Did he really think he was so amazing that girls couldn't help but fawn all over him like they were Cinderella's stepsisters and he was the prince?
Sure, I'd been thinking that the definition of his forearms deserved to be immortalized in marble just like the David statues in the corner, but that was only because I appreciated art.
Instead of answering his question, I folded my arms across my chest and said, "Who's to say it shouldn't be the other way around?" I arched an eyebrow for effect. "Maybe I should be the one with the contract that says you aren't allowed to fall in love with me."
Take that, you egotistical narcissist.
He didn't respond at first—just stared at me unblinking, like he couldn't believe what I'd just said.
Then, after looking me up and down with an appraising eye that made me feel like he was seeing and weighing my every flaw, he leaned back against his cushioned seat and said, "I don't think that will be an issue."
Okay.
Ouch. Talk about a slap to the ego.
But I wasn’t about to let him know how much his words stung, so I uncapped my pen and said, "Well, it looks like we're on the same page with things then."
It took everything in me to keep my hand steady as I signed his stupid contract when all I wanted to do was climb under the table and hide.
After signing my name and taking a deep calming breath, I decided to drive the point home that I was not the one who'd be left wanting in this arrangement of ours. So, at the bottom of the contract, I added in purple ink the words:
I, Carter Hastings, vow that I won't fall in love with the beautiful and alluring Ava Cohen, even though she is a Goddess on earth. I will be on my best behavior during our tutoring sessions and not let her enchanting personality, charming wit, or captivating eyes distract me from doing my job.
And just below that, I drew a line where he could sign his name.
I slid the paper back to him. "I'm going to need you to sign my little addition," I said, capping my pen.
A half-smile formed on his lips as he read my amendment to his contract. But then he signed his name in a nice, flowing scrawl.
"Looks like we've come to an agreement," he said, tucking the contract back into the front folder of his notebook. "How about we get to those questions now."
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