Page 43 of Playing Hard to Get

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My entire body is on high alert at her open friendliness. This is bad.

So fucking bad.

I flop into the chair across from her, my backpack falling at my feet and hitting the floor with a thud. She’s got her ever-present iPad in front of her and she sends me a sympathetic look, as if she knows I’m suffering and she wants to help in any way possible.

This, of course, gets my hopes up.

“Hi,” I finally say, when I realize I haven’t greeted her at all. “How are you?”

“I’m great.” She tilts her head to the side, her delicate brows drawing together. As if I confuse the shit out of her. Welcome to my club, lady. “How are you?”

“Fucking fantastic.” She doesn’t even flinch at my use of the f-bomb, which I appreciate. “I finished the book.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “You did? That’s so great! What did you think of it?”

“I liked it.” I got so annoyed with Cam last night after our stupid conversation that I locked myself in my room, popped in my AirPods, turned on the audiobook and listened to that thing for the rest of the evening. It was a good story that kept me entertained, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to recall all of the meaningful stuff for my essay. Or the possible test. I’m sure she’ll test us. Our professor is sadistic like that.

Or maybe I will remember all of the learning points. Shit, I don’t know. I don’t have much faith in myself with this sort of thing, considering my past.

“I’m so glad.” She smiles, looking pleased with herself. Pleased with me. “It was a good book, am I right?”

“It really was. Maybe that’s how I should read all of my books.”

“It might help.” She takes a deep breath. “So. I’ve been thinking about you since we last met up.”

Wait a minute. What?

A buzzing starts in my head and my heart thumps harder. She’s been thinking about me? Like I’ve been thinking about her? Because that’s all I’ve done. Sweet little Jo Jo has been on my mind all the damn time.

“…and I’m wondering if you should get reevaluated.” The look she sends me is filled with concern. “In regards to your dyslexia. The tests are better now than when we were in elementary school. It might help to pinpoint your weaknesses and strengths.”

All my hopes and lust come crashing down around me, leaving me wrecked. And not in a good way. “I, uh, haven’t considered it.”

“You should.” She rests her arms on top of the desk, leaning forward. My gaze drops to her chest, how her tits rest on top of the table, and I stare at them like I can’t see anything else. “I think it could help. Or maybe not. It’s up to you.”

“Sure.” There’s a thin gold chain around her neck with a tiny charm dangling from it, and I wonder if her ex gave it to her. If he did, why is she still wearing it? Does he matter that much to her? Does she still want that asshole despite everything he’s done to her?

“I can set up an appointment for you if you’d like. Or if you’d rather take care of it yourself, that’s fine too.” She shifts away from the table and I finally lift my gaze to hers. “I just wanted to offer some help.”

“I appreciate it.” I zero in on her lips. They’re pink and lush and her lower lip is extra plump. I wouldn’t mind sinking my teeth into it. Would she like that? A little bit of pain with her pleasure? I’m not some dominant asshole who gets off on spanking women, but I have no problem with experimenting.

“Of course.” Her smile is pleasant. Almost business-like. “Do you need to keep working on your essay? Did you get any feedback on your first paragraph yet?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I turned the paragraph in yesterday. Hope to hear something by the end of today.”

“Oh.” She nods, grabbing her iPad and scanning it. “No other assignments that are due?”

“Nope.”

“Any past due?”

“Uh uh.”

Her gaze barely lifts to meet mine. “Then what are we supposed to do today?”

I swallow hard, thinking of all things I’d like to do to her. “I don’t know.”

She leans back in her chair, studying me. “Should we work more on your reading?”


Tags: Monica Murphy Romance