Chapter 7: Cassidy

##Chapter 7: Cassidy

Book One: Stay

"Cassidy, your four o'clock is here."

With my nose buried deep in a calculus book, I murmur, "Great Lisa, send him back."

Lisa, our sort-of-receptionist, hovers in the doorway for a few moments until I'm forced to glance up and meet her wide gaze.

Only then does she mouth, "He's soooo hot." As if to add emphasis, she rolls her eyes.

I roll mine in response before shaking my head. Also for emphasis. Lisa thinks most guys are soooo hot. I'll admit, sometimes she's right. And sometimes she's wrong.

Very, very wrong.

But I suppose beauty is in the beer goggles of the beholder...or something like that. Not that Lisa usually drinks on the job. Although, sometimes I seriously have to wonder.

I plaster a smile across my lips and wait for my next appointment, interested to see how far off base she is today. A few seconds later, the smile falls off my face as Cole strolls into the room. As soon as he sees me, he stops, obviously just as surprised as I am. But that doesn't stop the wide smile from settling across his handsome face.

There's that shit luck again.

I can't seem to catch a break where he's concerned.

My eyebrows lower as I glare. "You keep turning up like a bad penny."

The kiss we shared the other day is, at this very moment, rolling through my brain and I can't make it stop.

Brooklyn is probably right. I need to get laid if I can't stop thinking about one tiny, insignificant kiss that shouldn't even be on my radar.

But yeah, it is so on my radar.

Cole steps into the small room we use for math tutoring before lowering himself down across from me. His tall frame makes the room shrink around us. His golden gaze doesn't relinquish mine, which only heightens my awareness of him, along with my discomfort. That's all it takes for my nerves to hum.

"And here I was thinking this was more serendipitous than anything else."

That has me snorting.

Serendipitous my ass...

But I can't actually say that to him. This is my place of employment. Even if it is just a few hours a week, it's important I maintain a professional manner. Eyeing him, I realize that's going to be impossible and wonder if a potential firing looms in the near future. The problem is that I need the small amount of money this job brings in.

It's the thought of being let go from my position that has me saying, "Maybe it would be best if you work with a different tutor."

His brows slide together in genuine confusion, as if he doesn't remember the stalker accusations I recently hurtled in his direction. Or that I flipped him the bird.

"Why would I want to do that? Don't you know Calculus II?"

"Of course, I do," I shoot back before thinking better of it, "I took it in high school."

He stares for a moment. "You took Calc II in high school? Wow. I'm impressed. You're obviously a math genius. I only made it through pre-Calc. And I pretty much wanted to shoot myself the entire year."

I shrug, not liking how this conversation has backfired on me. It's becoming a pattern.

When I remain silent, he asks, "What year are you?"

I bite down on my lower lip before reluctantly admitting, "Freshman."

It's technically true. What I don't bother to mention is that I should really be a sophomore. It's none of his business.

"You're a freshman taking Calculus III?"

The question makes me fidget on my hard plastic seat as a slow grin tugs the corners of his lips upward. The way his dimples wink from across the small table that separates us, sets off a little flurry of excitement, which is impossible to stomp out, within the confines of my belly.

"Yes," I mutter, giving him my best I'm-trying-to-make-you-uncomfortable-so-that-you-leave-me-alone-and-never-come-back stare.

He whistles, oblivious to the subliminal messages I'm directing his way. "And you understand Calculus II?"

Is he for real?

Of course, I understand Calc II. I could probably do it in my sleep.

"I passed with a ninety-eight percent."

"In high school?" His brows shoot up.

"Yes," I ground out uncomfortably. Leaving and never coming back doesn't seem to be uppermost in his mind.

He grins. "After careful consideration and interviewing several potential candidates, I believe you're the best tutor for me."

His words have me biting down on my lower lip. It would seem like I'm not much of a genius after all.

"Fine, let's just get started." So we can get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"Great." A satisfied smile trembles around the corners of his lips as he pulls out his calculus book and notepad. It's enough to make my belly hollow out. Honestly, you'd think I'd be used to the feeling by now. Instead, it throws me off every time it happens.

"Your name is Cassidy, huh?"

Since we both know it is, I don't bother dignifying the question with a response.

I clear my throat. "Why don't you show me what you're having trouble with." I need to get this show on the road and him out the door, not to mention out of my life.

Is that even possible anymore?

Unconsciously, my gaze falls to his lips as that kiss tumbles its way through my head for probably the hundredth time. It takes everything I have inside to force it away.

Unaware of my discomfort, he flips open his book, thumbing through a few pages before turning it around until I'm able to see the problems. After a few moments, he gets up and resettles on the chair next to me so we're both able study the page together. "I can't wrap my brain around the unit on parametric equations."

Distracted by his nearness, I nod, attempting to focus on the concepts, which is a challenge because he smells damn near edible. It's a potent concoction of the ocean and citrusy sunshine. I hate how intoxicating it is.

It takes a few attempts to forget about his delicious scent and slip into tutor mode, as I do my best to re-explain parametric equations in a way that makes sense. By the time sixty minutes have slipped by, Cole has plowed his way through four challenging problems.

What this hour has taught me is that Cole is smart and focused. He grasps complicated concepts easily when they're broken down into manageable chunks and explained properly.

Ugh.

Like I need anything else to like about him.

Once the last problem has been tackled, we both sit back in our plastic chairs before stretching out cramped muscles.

He rubs the back of his neck, shifting it one way and then the other. "Thanks. That makes so much more sense now. I wish Professor Ling could have explained it like that the first time."

Cole has him for Calc II this semester, and I have him for Calc III. Luckily, math has always come easily, so I don't struggle. I don't need to attend the lectures to understand the concepts. I could easily get through the book on my own. But most people don't grasp mathematics like I do, which is why tutoring in my spare time works well for me. I can set my own schedule, and in the two weeks I've been working in the tutoring lab, there have been no shortage of students to help.

With his golden-brown gaze locked on mine, Cole asks, "Are you done for the day?"

"Yup." I roll my aching shoulders, trying to work out all the kinks. I've been tutoring for three straight hours. Not only am I tired, but I have my own studies to get through. When his knee brushes against mine, my thoughts arrow straight back to him and those pesky butterflies in the pit of my belly wing their way back to life again. I'm left feeling both uncomfortable and slightly shaken. No one has ever affected me this way.

He makes everything worse by leaning into my personal space. Now I'm able to see the ridiculous amount of gold flecks churning in his whiskey-colored depths.

Nope. I definitely don't like the effect he has on me.

"Want to grab something to eat? All this calculus has made me work up an appetite. I'm starving."

My stomach takes this opportunity to embarrass me by rumbling in agreement.

One side of his mouth lifts into a knowing grin. "Should I take that as a yes?"

I shake my head. The fragile comradery we've carefully forged over the previous hour dissolves as I draw my protective armor around myself.

"Sorry, can't. I have a protein bar in my backpack. I need to head over to the library and study for a few hours."

"Come on, Cassidy," he cajoles, dimples flashing enticingly.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit, at least privately to myself, that the sound of my name rolling off his lips does funny things to my insides. As far as I'm concerned, it's one more reason to stay far away from Cole.

The word danger continues to flash like a bright neon sign in my brain. I'm smart enough not to ignore a warning when I see one.

I shake my head. "I don't think that would be a good idea." In fact, spending more time alone with Cole is a disastrous idea. My fight or flight instincts have kicked in.

Too bad they kicked in a year too late.

"Give me one good reason why it isn't a fantastic idea." He sits back, crossing his arms over his wide chest as if it's a challenge. Which it's not. I have nothing to prove to this guy. My gaze unconsciously drops to his well-defined pecs. Even through a tight-fitting T-shirt, I'm able to make out their contour. It takes a moment to realize I'm staring before yanking my gaze back to his.

What greets me is a knowing smirk.

I clear my dry throat, needing a distraction. "Now that we have a working relationship, I shouldn't be hanging out with you." I wave my hand in the air. "I'm sure there are rules or something about it."

"So, you're telling me there are policies written down that state this? If that's the case, I'd like to see them."

When I remain stubbornly silent, he presses onward.

Jerk.

"I'm curious, did they make you recite a tutoring oath regarding your fraternization with the students when you began working here?"

My lips flatten, because now he's just making fun of me.

"Okay," I snap, "why don't you try this answer on for size-I don't want to encourage someone who might be stalking me. Does that answer work better for you?"

"At least it's a more legitimate reason for not grabbing food with me. But still, we both know I'm not stalking you." His expression turns thoughtful. "I like to think of it more as actively pursuing you."

Fear spikes through my veins. "And what if I don't want to be pursued?" I whisper.

The smile falls from his face as our gazes stay locked.