Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
But it was over. I was sober now. And finally, today, I was going to get myself back on track. Last night I’d been lost in fantasy, but today, I just needed to be a good tutor for Brody.
I sauntered into the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee, pouring myself a big cup. I needed the warmth in the chilly apartment. The house was quiet other than the birdsong from the trees outside, and I knew Brody had already left. He always had somewhere to be—meeting friends or his brother, going out to different places every day. A real social life.
The events of last night still replayed in my mind on a loop.
I’d been a little dumb. I knew it. I was sure Brody knew it, too. All I could hope was that I hadn’t made too much of a fool out of myself.
Brody had been incredible getting me home. I remembered the feel of his weight on me. He’d held my arm as he walked me up the stairs, even though I didn’t necessarily need it. I’d half expected him to make a move on me—secretly, I’d wanted it more than anything—but he had been perfectly polite, leaving water and an Advil on the table for me.
He’d been so good to me.
Had he really said he wanted to kiss me? Had that been reality, or just a drunken dream I’d had overnight?
That was enough to make my head spin, even if I didn’t have a hangover at all.
I showered, got changed, and spent a little time going over the material from the class that Brody was having a hard time with. Hist 102 had been an easy one for me, and I was glad for the opportunity to help Brody.
It was also something I definitely knew how to do. I wanted to shove all thoughts of last night out of my brain and focus on schoolwork so that I didn’t go into overthinking overdrive, dissecting every little stupid thing I said last night and stewing in regret.
I set up in the living room, grabbing the two textbooks I had from the class, as well as another, smaller book that had some supplementary stories from that time period. I cracked it open and got lost in it.
The front door swung open a couple of hours later and Brody came in. Instantly, it was like every bit of chemistry inside my body changed.
I was attuned to him like an antenna. The moment he entered the living room, the bulk of his body changed the air around us, his presence immediately putting me on alert and stoking some kind of desire in me before he’d even said a word.
He popped off his hat and let his forest green backpack slump down onto the ground beside the couch, stretching his arms up above his head. He let out a long sigh.
“I’m here,” he said. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Only by a couple of minutes,” I said, glancing at the clock beneath the TV. “I got lost in this book anyway. Didn’t even notice.”
Brody nodded once, his gaze downcast toward the floor. “Give me a minute to grab my notes, I’ll be right out.”
He returned and plopped down next to me on the couch, putting his notebook down on the table with a thud. I realized quickly that all of his glow from last night was gone, replaced again by a dull, faraway look in his eyes.
Shit. What was wrong? I’d been looking forward to our study “date” since yesterday, but Brody seemed like he had a ten-ton anvil on him today.
Where was the gentle flirtiness from last night? The excitement about studying together?
“So, uh, the Revolutionary War,” he said, his head clearly elsewhere.
A small tendril of dark dread crept down my chest. I knew how to handle tutoring just about anyone. But something was off.
“Right,” I said, sitting up a little straighter, trying to puzzle out what was up with him. “You just had the first exam, right? Centered around the 1600s until the War of 1812?”
“Um, yeah,” he said, rubbing his temples. “I think that’s what it was on.”
I paused, letting a few moments pass. “Is… is everything okay with you today?”
“Yeah,” he said, scrubbing his palms over his face. “Okay, no, it’s not.”
A flood of relief rushed through me. Thank God he was at least acknowledging that shit was weird, right now. I bit the inside of my cheek. “Do you want to talk about it? Or…”
He sat back on the couch, looking at me, then away from me, and then back at me again. For a moment, I thought he might just stay silent, but then words started tumbling out of him, all at once.
“So we won last night against the Copper Eagles, right? And apparently one of their players sent out a mass video to their whole team last night, saying some heinous shit about us. Me, in particular.”