After Math(3)
A slow smile lifts his mouth. “I was teasing, but seriously.” He leans even closer. “If you teach advanced math, I’d rather have you. I’m in serious trouble if I don’t pass this class. I’m going to lose my scholarship.”
I want to tell him that’s not the only thing putting his scholarship at risk, but I figure he’s already well aware of that fact, despite the continuation of his behavior.
He continues to watch me, waiting for my answer.
I’ve never been this close to him before, and I can’t help studying him. I can see why girls fall at his feet. He’s gorgeous. Light hair with lots of natural streaks of blond from all that time in the sun. Tanned skin, with a hint of stubble, like he’d forgotten to shave this morning. But those eyes, a pale blue with just a touch of gray. I’m sure they are what seal the deal for him with the women he collects.
Only there’s no smile in his eyes. Only sadness and fear.
I should say no. I’m out of my element around him, and it will affect my ability to tutor him, but something in those eyes touches a place deep in my heart that I keep hidden from everyone. I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to Tucker Price than he shows the world.
I nod. “Okay.”
His eyes close, and his body slumps with relief. After a moment, his eyes open, and he’s the cocky guy that bumped into me hours earlier. “So let’s set up a time.”
“It doesn’t work that way. The math lab is drop-in. You work with who’s available when you come in. We can get started now.”
He frowns and his top teeth bite his lower lip.
“Why don’t you get out your problems and show me what you need help with?”
He pulls his textbook and a notebook out of his backpack. “You should know right off that math isn’t my thing.”
I can’t help but smile, in spite of my nervousness around him. “I suspect it’s more your thing than you give yourself credit. It’s simply a matter of understanding the rules.”
His cocky grin is back. “I’m not a fan of rules.”
“And look where that’s gotten you.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize I’m saying them. My eyes widen in horror. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
He shakes his head, his expression changing again. Tucker’s face is a chameleon of emotions. “No.” His gaze narrows. “I need that.”
“What? Snarky remarks?”
“No. The truth.”
I wait for a sarcastic comment to follow but none it doesn’t come.
We spend the next half an hour starting with the basics of mathematic operations. He’s focusing on what I’m telling him, but the concepts are slow to sink in, and he’s frustrated.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get it. The problem is that everyone’s brain is wired differently. Some gravitate to words and concepts. Others are hardwired for facts and logical order. The human brain is capable of both. We just need to figure out how to activate your brain.”
“So I’m a cyborg?” he teases, but it’s not cocky or arrogant. He’s sweet. And so unlike his public persona.
“If you were, you wouldn’t need me.” I grin. “We’re the ones who tell our brains we are incapable. Maybe you need to tell yourself that you are capable.”
He watches me for a moment, his palm resting on his closed book. “When are you in here again?”
“Why?”
“I want you to tutor me. No one’s taken the time to work with me the way you have.” I wonder if he’s flirting, but he seems serious.
“Uh…I work tomorrow from three to six.”
He scowls. “Do you do private lessons?”
I shake my head, now worried where this is going. I thought this Tucker, the one I’ve spent the last half hour with, was too good to be true. “No. I only work here in the lab.” I force a smile. “But there’s always someone here who is more than capable of helping you.”
“You like that word. Capable. You’ve said it multiple times.”
I’m caught off guard and a blush rises to my cheeks. My gaze falls to my folded hands on the table. “Maybe it’s because I think we tell ourselves that we can’t when we should be telling ourselves that we can.”
I refuse to face him, instead pretending that my hangnail is fascinating. Several seconds pass before I make myself look up.
Tucker’s blue eyes flicker with confusion and surprise. He gives me a soft smile before he scoops up his books, grabs his backpack, and walks out of the lab.
He must think I’m weird, the brainy math geek, and part of me is glad. I’ve always steered clear of guys like him, and I have no intention of changing. Guys like him were who Momma and my sister ended up with. Smooth talkers who took your money, screwed you until the next piece of ass came along, and then left you pregnant and living in a trailer park for the rest of your life. I’m running away from my past, creating my own future. There is no room for men like him, or for self-destructive relationships. With my schedule and drive to succeed, I don’t really consider dating much at all, not that I have men begging me to go out. The male math majors have either tried or considered me untouchable. They leave me alone, and I like it that way. Only classes, work and mathematics. The logic of math will never let me down.