She nods quickly, still avoiding my gaze.
I lean in just slightly, dropping my voice. "Damn. And here I was, thinking you were my good luck charm."
Madison groans, shoving my shoulder lightly. "Shut up."
I chuckle, leaning back in my chair, but before I can tease her more, our professor starts moving around the room, handing out our last test.
Madison barely glances at hers before groaning, sinking lower into her seat.
I smirk. "That bad?"
She tilts the paper just enough for me to see. 62%.
I wince. "Okay, yeah. That's…not great."
She sighs, running a hand over her face before glancing at me. "What'd you get?"
I hesitate, considering lying just to save her some dignity, but she narrows her eyes like she already knows I'm full of shit.
I flip my test over slowly, revealing my score.
98%.
Madison stares at it for half a second before deadpanning, "You've got to be kidding me."
I try to hold back my grin, but I fail miserably.
Her eyes narrow. "Jaxon."
I bite my lip, barely containing my laugh. "What?"
"Fuck off."
I finally lose it, laughing outright as she slaps my arm with her test. "Come on, it's not that bad?—"
"Easy for you to say, Mr. 98%," she mutters, sinking further into her seat.
“Hey, you gotta remember this is my second time taking this. My credits didn’t transfer, not enough hours or some sh-”
She silences me with a glare, reminding me she isalsotaking this class for the second time, and I wince.
I shake my head, nudging her knee lightly with mine. "I can help you more."
She exhales, looking over at me warily. "You're seriously offering to tutor me again? You do know you're in the midst of football season chaos, what with being a football god and all that."
I smirk. "What can I say? I'm a generous guy."
She rolls her eyes, but there's a small smile playing on her lips, an echo of the one that greeted me when I walked in, the one that's still making my heart beat a little faster than normal.
I tap my pen against my desk, considering my schedule. "I've got a lab this afternoon and practice this evening, but if you're free tomorrow at ten, we can meet at the house?"
She glances at me, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her test. "You don't have to do that, Jax."
I raise a brow. "You saying you'd rather fail?"
She exhales through her nose, staring at her 68 like she can will it into something higher. Then, finally, she sighs. "Fine. Tomorrow at ten."
I grin. "That's the spirit."
