His body was tense all over, but he tried to keep his tone even when she moved her hand away from his mouth. “This is how you talk to your patients? Call them idiots?”
“You’re not my patient. But I know what it feels like to think you’re a fake. After my marriage fell apart, I almost didn’t come back to this line of work. How was I supposed to guide people through life and their relationships when I couldn’t even manage my own? When I was depressed and could barely get out of bed because of some guy?”
She said the words matter-of-factly, like she was reporting the weather, but Lane’s chest tightened. “Elle…”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it, but I can tell you that it took someone talking to me like this to make me get help and get back on track. Who knows where I’d be if I hadn’t listened? I don’t pretend I’m the best doctor out there, but I know I’ve helped a lot of people. I know I’m good at what I do and care about my patients. And that’s how I say ‘fuck you’ to my ex and the people who let me down.” She held his gaze, something earnest in hers. “I know you’re good at what you do, too. People who aren’t the best at their jobs don’t get positions at The Grove. But you obviously want a bigger role. To get that, you’re going to have to get over your pride and fear and fight for it. Don’t be a fucking coward.”
The words were digging into him, one by one, sharp little needles, stabs of truth. She’d pinned him to a board like a butterfly and laid out the guts of it. Fear. Shame. Insecurity. “You’re one to talk about not being a coward. You can’t even sleep with me without paying me like I’m your whore.”
She shifted on his lap,
leaning back to eye him, and braced her hands on her on thighs. “That’s not about pride. That’s about learning from my mistakes. I know you don’t need the money. I know you’re here only because you want to be and the minute you don’t or you get bored with this, you’re gone. The money keeps my head in the right place. It gives us both boundaries.”
“That we’re not dating,” he said flatly.
“Yes. I can’t date. I won’t. My emotional tolerance for that sort of thing is nonexistent. I was…broken after my divorce.” She ran a hand over her still damp hair. “I’m better alone, Lane. That’s the only time my life goes in the right direction, when I’m on my own. But you’re the type of guy who will be a great husband one day and maybe a dad. You’re still young, and throwing away a potential career because you’re embarrassed to ask for help is ridiculous. Don’t sabotage yourself like that.”
He sighed, some of his anger draining out of him. He wasn’t going to blame Elle for being honest. He knew what he was signing up for when he made the offer in the first place and expecting her to be something different wasn’t fair. “Maybe it’s dumb, but I don’t want to have to sit with some college-age kid to tutor me on how to read and write better. It just feels like a repeat of high school, and I never want to go through that kind of humiliation again.”
She considered him for a long moment, her brows pinching together again. “What if I could help?”
He blinked, his original trail of thought cutting off abruptly. “What?”
She shrugged. “If you get tested and it’s dyslexia, I can help. I worked for a while at the learning center at my college in undergrad. If auditory stuff works better for you than print, there are resources for that. Apps that will read documents aloud, dictation software, even simple things like bookmarks that isolate lines of text can help. It can take a while to get used to all of that stuff, but in the meantime, I could help you finish your paper and whatever else you have to do to get to the end of this semester. I could read aloud references to you. You could dictate your paper to me, and I can help you organize how you want to say things.”
“You want to tutor me?” He grimaced. “That sounds like the least sexy thing ever.”
She lifted a brow. “You’re saying I wouldn’t be a hot teacher?”
The haughty expression broke the tension strumming through him for a moment and he smiled. “Your humility is overwhelming.”
“Said the pot to the kettle.”
He ran his hands over her arms, sliding beneath the sleeves of her robe. “I don’t get it. Why would you want to do this? You don’t want to be friends. You’ve made sure to hammer that point home. This would require spending actual time with me that doesn’t involve you begging to come.”
“I did not beg.”
Now it was his turn to give her the don’t-be-coy look. “There was begging, McCray. Pleading, even.” He pushed aside one lapel of her robe and drew his knuckles over her breast, watching the nipple tighten in awareness. “I bet I could get you to do it again right now.”
She put her hand over his, pressing his palm against her but stilling his movement. “Don’t try to distract me with your wicked hands.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Why?”
Her lips pursed, her frustration obvious. “Maybe because I feel like this whole setup we have is uneven. I know I’m paying you, but you’re humoring me.”
He met her gaze but didn’t deny the accusation.
She sighed. “So maybe this makes it feel better for me. I provide you with a service…”
“…and I pay you back with one,” he finished, his tone flat.
She nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”
He let out a breath, wishing they could just go back to tussling in bed instead of discussing all of his shortcomings and their screwed-up arrangement, but he had a feeling she wasn’t going to let this go. And really, he didn’t want to drop out of school. He’d worked hard to get to the point he had and still wanted to be a degreed therapist, to be able to help people with more than his body.
Getting tutored by Elle would probably be maddening but more fun than dealing with some eighteen-year-old kid who was trying to teach him for class credit. Plus, the more he and Elle annoyed each other, the hotter the sex would be. But if they were going to be spending more time together and working on things that affected his career, he had to put a lid on this back-and-forth act she was pulling. She’d almost ended the whole thing when he’d come over tonight. This dance was wearing him out. He didn’t want that same thing playing out with the tutoring. But he didn’t know how to fix that unless…
An idea popped into his head. A dangerous, barbed one, but a good one. He smiled. “I’ll agree to this on one condition.”