Page 30 of Wicked Devotions
“I should take her door off the hinges.”
One of the guys next to me laughs, thinking I’m joking. Emerson, on the hand, knows I’m dead serious, so he shakes his head. “I’m sure that would go over well.”
All he gets from me in response is a shrug before I’m off. The drive from the practice facility to the library is quick since most classes are long over. Luck is on my side when I grab a parallel spot right outside the entrance.
She didn’t know which study room they’d be in, so I walk down the corridor looking through the windows of each. I find her in the second to last room, but from the voices drifting through the cracked door, I can tell she’s not done yet. She asks a question softly enough that I can’t really make out the exact words. The voice that answers her is male, and I don’t miss how condescending he is as he explains the answer to her.
“Watch your tone when you speak to her.” I push the door open without knocking.
The mathletes-reject-looking loser does a double take when he looks up from her. I don’t miss the way he was sitting on the table over her with a direct view down her top. Which he was most definitely taking advantage of.
“Who are you?” he asks.
“Are you ready to go?” I soften my tone when I look down at her. Her face is pale, and her eyes are glassy as she nods. I turn my attention back to the guy who put that look on her face. “Leave.”
“Your boyfriend better not show up at our next session, Harper. You’re too far behind for distractions like this.”
“What the fuck are you still doing here?” I glareat him. “You won’t be tutoring her again.” Or anyone for that matter.
I watch him walk out the door before turning my attention back to Harper. She’s sliding books into her backpack and avoiding looking at me.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says quietly.
“He shouldn’t have spoken like that to you. And he damn sure shouldn’t have been leering down your shirt.”
She freezes and glances down at her chest. Her hands fly to her already modest neckline and tug it further up. She stands and slips on her backpack before walking around the other side of the table from me. Her eyes stay on the ground the entire time.
“You don’t have to hide from me.” I step into her path.
“I—”
“Is everything okay in here?” A librarian pokes her head into the room. “We had reports of yelling.”
“Yeah, my sister was being verbally assaulted by her tutor.”
“Oh my.” She straightens and looks around me at Harper. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She’s the picture of southern charm and elegance again. A complete one eighty from how shelooked two minutes ago, like a switch flipped. “It wasn’t that bad; I think Derek was just frustrated with my questions.”
Derek.
At least I have a name now.
“Okay, dear. Have a lovely evening.”
Harper breezes past me with her head held high as if I didn’t just witness her almost breaking down less than five minutes ago. I wonder how many times her piece of shit father berated her like that and then expected her to be fine immediately after. It has to be learned or coping behavior.
She walks out the front of the library and to my car, climbing into the passenger side as soon as I unlock the door. I try to make conversation, but she cooly replies in monosyllabic answers. Instead of pushing her now, I put music on and relax. The more unbothered I am, the more I can sense her irritation rising.
By the time I pull into the driveway, I can barely hold back laughter at how clearly pissed she is. I can’t explain it, but drawing reactions out of her has always been so deeply amusing to me. She puts her best effort forward in trying to appear unbothered by me, but I see it in the tense set of her shoulders and the way her lips purse together. She kicks offher shoes and immediately goes upstairs to her room.
I consider following her, demanding a conversation about what her tutor was saying but decide to give her a break. Plus, I need a shower. I stroll into my room and close the door behind me before stripping down and throwing my clothes in the hamper. The door swings open as I’m walking toward the bathroom, so I stop, expecting Cy because he never fucking knocks.
Instead, I’m greeted by a set of big, shocked, hazel eyes belonging to the last person I expect to walk in on me. Her mouth is formed into the most perfect O shape that immediately sends my mind spiraling to all the dirtiest places. I’m not sure if she knows what she’s doing, but her eyes trace every inch of my body. I can feel her gaze like a caress, and my dick swells under her attention.
“Oh my goodness,” she whispers. “I didn’t realize. I didn’t know.”
“Sure are liking what you see though.” I wink at her.