Page 68 of The Wallflower
"You were working, sure, but now you're not. Plus, I want to talk to you, and I can’t do that with your clients standing next to us."
She removes her glasses and sets them carefully on the book in front of her. "You have no right to come in here and order him around. I highly doubt he’s going to pay me now."
Carefully, I scan her features. There's a faint red mark on her cheek where I pinned her against the window and a smudge of a bruise on her neck where I bit her. All my other marks are covered by her clothing.
When the memories surge back, I set my coffee on the desk and lean toward her. "Are you okay?" I didn’t ask last night, mainly because I wasn’t sure how I felt after it all happened. When I held her in my arms, it felt perfect and right, and asmuch as I didn’t want the moment to end, it needed to. In the world I live, there is no chance between her and I.
She glares at me, but there’s a strange softness that lingers beneath. "After your caveman routine last night? Yes, I'm fine. You must’ve got up early and left?"
I lower my voice and take her hand. When she doesn't pull away, I squeeze it between both of mine. It's warm, soft, and so delicate. "Yes. I left at five o’clock. I usually get up and work out during football season. Now don’t evade the question. Are you really okay?”
"What’s it matter? You can’t take back what happened. The better question is, are you going soft on me? Is that icy heart of yours slowly unthawing? Because you’ve never asked me if I was okay before.”
It's my turn to glare, and I release her hand. "Call me soft again, and I'll make you try to say it while you choke on my cock. How about that?"
She rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her notebook. "I don't have time for this. I'm fine. You could’ve texted me to ask me that, not sent my client away and cost me one hour's worth of work."
I grab the back of her neck and steer her head back to look at me. "No, I'm not going anywhere. And I'm not checking on you because I'm fuckingsoft. It was a question. I meant more so after what happened with fuckface."
In my murderous haste to punish her, I never thought to discuss with her if she was okay after everything that happened. I sent Lee a text before I went into Bel’s dorm to break both of the fucker’s hands and leave him in a ditch somewhere. It’ll teach him not to fuck with me and what’s mine. I wanted to kill him, but I didn’t want to hurt Bel, and if someone came sniffing around asking questions, she’d be the first person they go to.
Bel frowns. "I’m okay. The whole thing made me feel stupid, and now I need to cancel his tutoring appointments. As much as I need the money, I can't trust him."
Sitting back in the chair again, I sip on the mug of coffee. She glares, reaches for the mug, and snatches it from my grasp. I watch as she slowly brings it to her lips and takes a sip.
"Ugh, it's cold."
"I walked from the mill to here. Of course it's cold."
With a roll of her eyes, she reaches under the desk and grabs an old battered thermos that looks like it belongs in a 1901 mining biopic. I extend my cup toward her, and she refills it with steamy coffee. When I let out a long sigh and sip again, it earns me a smile. A smile that does something in my chest, twisting things around, and burrowing a thorn deep enough to leave a gash. Fresh blood fills that small crevice, the warmth of it a small dot in my normally icy, barren chest.
Since it's not something I want to touch at the moment, I push the thought to the back of my mind and focus my sole attention on her. "Well, I have good news, and since you’re down a client, this should help. I need a tutor."
She stares at me dumbfounded for a few moments and then whispers the question as if it’s a secret. "A tutor for what?"
"For myself, obviously." I grin.
A smile tips at the corner of her lips, and then it grows until she bursts into full on laughter. Her slim arms wrap around her middle, and she chuckles like I’ve told her the most hilarious joke of all time. It’s honestly kind of cute how she tips her head back, and how she appears to let go and be herself for one moment. It’s like looking through a telescope into space at a star, knowing you’ll only see it implode on itself once. It’s also something I have little patience for…
"Laugh it up, flower, but what if I pay you five hundred dollars a session?"
She goes from smiling to neutral in two seconds flat.Not a joke anymore, huh?
Suddenly, I’m the one smiling. "You can't...that would be...too much," she finishes softly as if she can't really believe the words she’s saying. "Besides, I'd kill you."
My smile becomes a full-on grin, turning up the charm, something she hasn't seen a lot of from me yet. I say, "I can, and I will, but I'd have a few conditions."
"Of course you would. You wouldn’t be you without conditions." Her delicate eyebrow arches in question, almost as if she’s waiting for me to reveal said conditions, and I bite, continuing to speak.
"This arrangement would secure your services for me exclusively."
She shakes her head, gold strands of hair start to fly, and her pretty pink lips part. I know she’s about to start sputtering some nonsense, so I grab the pencil in front of her and place it between her lips. "Be quiet and let me finish, or I’ll put something else in your mouth that I know will keep you quiet."
She takes the pencil out, and I give her a warning glare. "Exclusive services, tutoring sessions whenever I need them. You help me get to the top of the class.”
She jerks the pencil from her mouth and throws it at my chest. It's easy enough to catch, and I tuck it behind my ear, still damp from her pretty lips.
“What’s the catch,Andrew?” The way she says my full name grinds over every last nerve ending in my body.