“No, I don’t. The idea just popped into my head. School doesn’t start for over a month. What will I do with all this free time? I need to figure out how to make money quickly without selling my body.” I snapped my fingers and widened my eyes. “Or maybe I should sell my body.”
“Oh, wow. Now that’s a great idea,” George enthused.
Cody kicked him under the table and shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s terrible.”
“Tutoring was my backup plan. I just have to wait a month till school starts to drum up some business.” I sighed, slumping in my chair.
“Actually, you may be in luck. I know someone who needs help now,” George said.
“You do? School hasn’t started.”
“We haven’t, but USC started two weeks ago. Si is hopelessly out of practice. He hasn’t been in a classroom in seven years, and he’s drowning. He doesn’t remember anything. He needs help, but it can’t come from me. We’d kill each other,” George huffed with a humorless half laugh. “I’ll have him call you.”
I squinted. “Si?”
“Yeah, you remember my brother Simon, don’t you?”
Gulp. “Oh, I don’t know if I can—”
“Sure, you can. He’s loaded and desperate.”
“Simon?” I hadn’t seen George’s brother in a while, but there was nothing desperate about that Greek god of a man. “Doesn’t he have a job? Isn’t he a…football person?”
“Nope. He’s currently in a transition phase. Or in his case, a denial phase. I overheard him tell our mom he was a little overwhelmed. You’re the man.” George stood again and hiked his Buffy the Vampire Slayer tote bag across his chest. “I’ll give him your number. Gotta run. See you guys next weekend.”
I swiveled in my chair and called George back. He didn’t turn around. However, my extremely hot ex-fuck-buddy did.
Darn it, Jake was good-looking. Tall, dark, and dreamy with a gorgeous, toned bod he shamelessly spent hours in the gym perfecting daily. And did I mention his eyes? I could have stared into those icy pools for hours at a time, getting lost in that hypnotic shade of green. Kind of like I was now.
I snapped from my trancelike state and made myself look away. Unfortunately, I didn’t miss his girlfriend’s bewildered expression, nor did I miss Jake’s dismissive smile before he kissed her tenderly, then squeezed her hand, held the door open, and walked out of the coffee shop.
The spike of pain hurt worse than I would have thought. I was over him. I promised myself I’d never let anyone use me and walk all over me again. I wouldn’t…but I wished I could say something to prove he hadn’t gotten the best of me or that—
Cody nudged my elbow hard. “I thought Jake was a distant bad memory.”
I bit my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and sighed in defeat. “We hooked up two weeks ago.”
“Oh, no. Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish. He called out of the blue and asked if I wanted to grab something to eat. We had dinner in Westwood, talked for hours over a bottle of wine and a fabulous meal. He even paid for it. No dutch treat.”
Cody scoffed. “And then what?”
“We went to my place and had sex. Great sex. All night. It was amazing.”
“Hmm. Then what happened?”
“We did it three more times, and then…” I pointed to where he’d stood a few minutes ago. “That happened. He neglected to mention that he had a girlfriend or that he might look through me if we ever ran into each other in public. Fuck, I’m such an idiot. And now Simon? Oh, my God. I can’t do this life. Let’s trade. I’d rather be you. At least give me your boyfriend.”
Cody shook his head. “No, sorry. I’m not giving up Bobby J. He’s all mine. You’ll meet your person, Toph. And he’ll be one hundred gazillion times more worthy of you than that turd.”
“Thanks, but I don’t have time for romantic entanglements. I give up. At least until graduation. I need to focus on school, helping my folks, and—”
“Tutoring Simon,” he intercepted.
“No way. I can’t do that.” I shook my head hard enough to give myself whiplash. “He’s a football player. The real kind.”
“George said he’s out of a job. Maybe he’s not playing professionally anymore.”
“I’ll never know.”
Cody sipped his latte thoughtfully. “You know, working for Simon could be good for you in a few different ways. You’ll make some money, stay busy, and perhaps…conquer your irrational fear of athletes.”
I gasped indignantly. “I’m not afraid.”
“Prove it.”
“What?”
“Tutor the jock and remind yourself who you are—a smart guy with a lot of friends and a great future ahead of him. Minor setbacks don’t define you, Topher, and neither do bad hookups. You know that. Now prove it to yourself.”
I had nothing to prove. That was what I told myself, anyway. History said otherwise. I had a thing for jocks.