Chapter 3

3

Adison

Friday night wasn’t necessarily the worst night of my life, but it was absolutely one of my most embarrassing moments.

Just when I’m enjoying the view of the sexy football player, some pong king decides I’m the one who should hold his beer.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

Thankfully, whoever Mr. McSexy is, I’ll most likely never lay eyes on him again. I’ve never seen him around campus before, don’t have any classes with him, and the campus is large enough the chance we’ll cross paths again is minimal.

I make my way through the campus toward the library. I have a new list to look through. This is the time of the school year when I get assigned new students to tutor. It’s too late to drop classes so students who are struggling come to the realization that they need tutoring. Some of them will most likely be difficult to work with— angry they can’t figure out the math on their own and being pushed by parents, professors, or coaches to get help.

Fun.

Crossing the library, I head to the small meeting rooms used for one-on-one and small group tutoring. I open the door to room B-4, turn on the lights, and plop my backpack on the table.

The room has four tables set up with two chairs that face the front of the room. A computer, projector, and large screen next to a podium are at the front of the room.

I don’t need any of that. Today will be a one-on-one with each student to determine what I can do to help them.

I grab a chair and pull it to the opposite side of the table so I can be face-to-face with the students. I pull the recommendation sheets from my backpack and review the information about my upcoming appointment.

John Radcliffe, a junior who needs help in Calculus I. A student of Professor Griffith and recommended by Coach Chris Johnson.

Another football player. Great.

Last year I had a football player who struggled with writing a report for his Composition class. Talk about a colossal ego. That guy couldn’t stop talking about himself. He entered the football portal at the end of last season, so at least I won’t have to deal with him this year.

There’s a tap on the door.

“Come in,” I call.

The door opens and a towering hard body fills up the doorway as my charge enters the room. I gulp and my gaze moves from his dark eyes, the sexy scruff on his chin, the sharpness of his jaw, and down to his broad chest, and washboard abs I can appreciate even under that tight T-shirt he’s wearing.

Yummy. I could bounce a quarter off that stomach.

I blink several times and bring my imagination back to reality. Then it hits me and I recognize him immediately.

No. No, this can’t be happening.

Mr. McSexy.

From the party who got doused with a full cup of Benji’s beer.

That damn Benji.

Mr. McSexy rubs the back of his neck, and the look makes my ovaries rumble.

Does he recognize me?

“Oh, I think I have the wrong room. I’m looking for Adison Miller. Is he around?”

I can’t hold back a loud cackle. I take a deep breath just in time to prevent an embarrassing snort. I’ve been known to laugh and snort when I’m extremely amused.

Him?

McSexy raises his eyebrows. “What’s so funny? Do you know where he is?”

I motion him into the room and point to the chair in front of me, all while I try to hold in my laughter.

“I’m Adison Miller. Nice to meet you,” I choke out.

McSexy rubs the back of his neck again. “You’re not a dude.”

“Well, thanks for noticing.” I peruse my list of new students. “And you are?”

“Rush.”

“Excuse me? That’s your first name or your last name?”

“Sorry. Rush Radcliffe.”

“Your first name is Rush?”

He stands a little taller. “It is.” He looks at me with those brown eyes blazing into mine.

I freeze in place and my stomach clenches.

Please don’t recognize me from the party.

“You probably have me listed as John Radcliffe.”

I find his name on my list. “Here you are.” I put a checkmark next to his name. “I’ll mark you as present.

He sits in the chair in front of me. “Your days are Wednesday and Friday at four o’clock. Sharp. I don’t accept late arrivals. No skips. No trades. I expect any work I’ve assigned to you to be completed. No half-ass attempts. No excuses. Got it?”

I can’t and don’t tolerate people who don’t follow through–who either never show up or show up late.

“Damn.” He leans back in the chair and brings the two front legs off the floor.

I glare at him. “Damn what?”

“Tough.”

“You either want my help or you don’t.” I shrug. “I’m tired of people showing up late and expecting me to wait. Or worse yet, not showing up at all.”

“Are you this rude to everyone?” He has a slight grin.

“I’m not rude, Mr. Radcliffe. I’m simply explaining my expectations before we start our sessions. My schedule is ironclad and if you choose to fritter away your time, that’s your business. However, I will not allow you to waste my time. Time that I could be using to help other students.”

He salutes me. Actually, salutes me. “Yes, ma’am.” He still has that stupid grin on his face.

His eyes narrow and he points at me. “I know you.”

Oh no. Please don’t remember. Please don’t remember.

“I don’t think so.” Adrenaline shoots through as my heart throbs in my chest.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

I shake my head.

“Are you in Madison Hall a lot?”

“No. I’m mostly in the STEM Building.”

He taps his finger on his chin that brushes against his delightful scruff. “You on cheer squad?”

“Pfft.” I chuckle. “Not hardly.”

“You play on a team? Tennis? Softball?”

“Nope.” My voice comes out a little harsher than necessary.

John holds his hands up in surrender. “Just trying to figure out where I know you from.”

“Well, you don’t.” I take a deep breath. “Let’s get started. Take out your current book and let’s see where you’re at.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Please stop calling me ma’am.

I’m not sure how I got this guy. Eventually, he’s going to remember I was the one who cooled off his crotch with that beer. If he continues to show up for his tutoring sessions with that scruff and smelling of whatever soap he uses, I’m never going to get through this.

Focus, Adison. Focus.