“She told you? Dean Whitmer?” he asked shyly, looking uncomfortable and moving from one foot to the next as he repositioned himself against the pillar. He still looked like a GQ cover, and that wasn’t helping.
“Nope. I just knew that for her to make me your private tutor, she felt like she didn’t have a choice, which brings us right back to where we were, doesn’t it? You guys get preferential treatment, just like I said.” I smirked at him. “I hate being right.”
He frowned as he stared at me. The realization hitting him as to how I saw his demands. I was positive that the athletics department insisted because Mason wanted me. Why was still a question, and I would get to the bottom of it if it killed me. The fact that they were willing to boost the department’s budget with their own, only confused me even more. Patricia must have played hardball.
“I… uh… I’m sorry about that, but after… well, it just had to be you. That’s all. You… for some reason, have gotten under my skin since we met. I mean, bumping into you today… It just felt like this was right,” he stuttered, doing his best to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make him look like even more of an asshole. He failed.
“I also saw about another three-hundred people since I saw you. Do they also get to claim some kind of ownership to me?” I squinted at him. Now I was just being a dick. I knew it, but I couldn’t stop myself. He deserved it, and I was enjoying watching him squirm. It was kind of hot.
“Look… I just… Maybe I was reading the situation wrong…” he cast his eyes downwards. “I just… there’s something about you that makes me… I don’t know… Want to get to know you better. I… I trust you for some reason, I guess,” he raised his head and stared at me. His eyes were so clear, so blue and… I don’t know… honest. Maybe this was one of the first real things he had ever revealed to me. A glimmer of truth in all of his bullshit.
“Okay.” I shrugged. “What’s up with the library? That seemed like an odd choice. Why not the center? You know, where I usually work.”
“Well, I guess I am actually a little embarrassed, and I know that’s stupid. I do. It’s just, I…well, I don’t want people to think I’m dumb. You know, being a football player and all. It’s what people think already, and I’m not dumb…” he blushed. Against his dark stubble it was intoxicating. I imagined many things in the next few seconds and all of them had him bent over the library tables with my cock planted firmly inside that round bubble butt of his.
I shook my head, trying to clear it as best I could. The idea of him naked and prone in front of me was already causing me to get a chubby and that was not a good idea.
I hated him.
I needed to remember that. Mason was the enemy even if he was the task I had at hand.
“Okay… Are we going in?” I asked, trying to act cool and nonchalant. I was anything but. Being this close to him, knowing we were going to be spending a lot of time together was fucking with my head. My brain was calling him a dick and my dick was telling me to fall in lust. Too late. That’s’ been happening since the day he walked into class my freshman year.
“Yes… Can we sit downstairs? There’s never anyone there. It’s where I usually go when I need to study and can’t do it in the dorm,” he shifted his feet again as he pushed himself off against the brick pillar. He was uncomfortable. Lying?
“You don’t want to be seen.” I frowned again at him. “I need you to be on you’re a game if you want to pass this class. I can do it for you, but you have to take this seriously, you know?”
He laughed, like really laughed hard. It was husky and beautiful. His voice, which was already deep, had been playing musical cacophonies in my head, but that laugh. Fuck… This was going to be hard.
“Shall we?” he gallantly held out his arm, motioning toward the door.
I smirked. “Fine.” I picked up my backpack and slung it over my shoulder.
I walked through the revolving door and he held the edge of it, trapping me inside. I turned around to him and held up my middle finger, my face emotionless. It was a mask. Him doing this… It was cute. Charming even… Fuck him. He was not going to get into my head.
He smiled and let go. I turned around and waited as he came through. I reached over and punched his arm. It wasn’t hard, but it caught him by surprise. Me too. I hurt my knuckles. Fuck those arms… They were something that sonnets should be written about.
Mason was beautiful. I know… I’ve said that a lot. But I haven’t commented on the body that was a wonderland even clad in clothes. I couldn’t even imagine what it would look like sans shirt. It had to be the stuff of legend. His arms and shoulders stretched his t-shirt. His pecs threatened to burst through the cotton with every breath he took. When you look at his back, the t-shirt clung to his muscles, showing you just how amazing and defined his torso was. And that butt and bulge… I was in trouble. How could I help him when the only thing I could do was imagine him naked? That was a fantasy. I had to deal in the reality of us…whatever that might be.
“Where do you want to go, Mason? You lead the way.” I held out my arm for him this time. It was not lost on him. He grinned as he walked by me.
“Right this way.” He led me down the stairway and into the large bottom floor where the majority of the books in circulation were located. A large table sat in the middle of the foyer at the bottom of the stairs. Mason grinned and held up a finger to his lips.
Fuck he was adorable.
He led me through the foyer and through the stacks of books until we got to one of the far corners of the library. It was really quiet here. A small table sat in the corner with a few chairs around it.
He pulled out a chair and grinned at me. “Sir…”
I sighed, trying to look annoyed. I wasn’t. This was a fantasy. A man who pulled out a chair. Women think they have the corner on chivalry… I have dreamed of it.
I sat down in the chair and he walked around to his side of the table and sat down.
“What are we gonna do today? I, uh… don’t have my book or anything,” he asked, scrunching his face up in apology.
“Yeah… We aren’t there yet. Slow down, there number thirty-two. Today we are just figuring out our schedule and this paper that you have due in two weeks. You also have a quiz next week, so we will focus on studying for that. What’s your schedule besides classes and practice cause that’s in your file.” I unzipped my bag and pulled out his folder that Patricia had given me. I looked at it and whistled. “Damn… you are a busy man. You guys really practice this much?”
“Besides a game every Saturday, we practice almost every day for four hours. That’s why all of my classes happen in the morning. We practice from two to six every day, sometimes until eight, if we aren’t doing well.” He tilted his head to the side as if this wasn’t abnormal. “Monday through Friday anyway. Saturdays are game days and if it’s an away game Friday is a travel day, depending on how far we have to go on the bus. Usually we can leave I the morning and we always come back that night. Sunday is off.”
