Opposing Sides Page 2
“Lexi, stop.” He brushed my hand off in obvious discomfort.
The waitress arrived with our food and I took my plate and scooted as close to the wall as possible.
Why didn’t he want me to touch him? I couldn’t understand it. As much as I didn’t want to think about it, I couldn’t stop obsessing over it. Maybe because I knew I was making the wrong decision.
Or was I?
Even though we had agreed to wait until marriage to have sex, I longed for him to hold me and caress me, instead of pushing me away. But time after time, he snubbed what little romance we had between us. I needed to feel that soulful connection. I had to know if we were making the right decision and that we were more than just friends. I was dying for more than his sweet terms of endearment.
“Are you headed to the gym later on?” My brother asked Collin.
“Of course,” Collin replied, waiting to take a bite of his burger. “I can’t slow down even if it’s the off season.”
“Me either. Spring training kicked my butt last year. And coach will be…”
I zoned out as they continued talking about baseball. Luke and Collin had played ball together through a homeschool athletic association during their high school years. That was how we met. Coincidentally, they were recruited to play for the same university and my parents gave me no other option for my education.
“Lexi?” Delaney waved a hand in front of my face.
“Huh?” I stopped chewing for a second.
She shook her head and I knew she thought I was thinking about how perfect I wanted my wedding. I needed to confide in her and then man up and have a serious ‘come to Jesus’ talk with Collin. My head was a convoluted mess of wants, needs, rules, and fears that was sending me quickly to the edge of insanity.
“So, do you want to or not?”
I swallowed my food, realizing I hadn’t listened to one word she said. “Do what?”
“Seriously?” Delaney placed a hand on her forehead. “You didn’t hear me?”
I mouthed, “Sorry.”
“I asked if you wanted to go to the gym with me.”
“You know I don’t like to work out.” I took another bite of my burger.
“I know, but I thought you’d like to tone up your arms,” she flexed her bicep, “since you’re thinking about buying that strapless wedding dress.”
I kicked her under the table.
“Oww!”
I didn’t want Collin to know what type of dress I’d be wearing and now Delaney had ruined it.
“You bought a strapless dress?” Collin immediately keyed in on our conversation. I smiled, glad that it sprung a reaction from him, whether good or bad.
“Well, I haven’t bought it yet.” And knowing my mom, she wouldn’t allow me to buy it either, but I had to at least push for it.
“Sorry.” Delaney squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment. “I just didn’t want to go alone.” A spark flickered in her light blue eyes, and it was clear to me. She wanted to go because of my brother.
“Oh, all right. But you and I are going to have a talk.” I pointed my finger at her. She retreated in her chair, and she knew I was peeved. Checking my phone, I saw that I had twenty minutes until my meeting. “I gotta go.”
“But you didn’t finish your burger.” Collin glanced at my half eaten plate of food.
“I guess I wasn’t that hungry.” I stuffed my phone in the outside pocket of my backpack.
“I’ll call you later.” Collin placed a hand on my arm and leaned forward.
“Okay.” I aligned my head so that my lips targeted his. I closed my eyes in anticipation of his kiss and held my breath to restrain the butterflies threatening to take flight from the pit of my stomach. Instead, Collin’s lips landed on my forehead, and I imagined I looked silly with my eyes closed and lips puckered.
Why wouldn’t he kiss me on the lips?
“You better go.” He rubbed my arm, giving me a nice warm up as if I were cold. “You don’t want to be late.”
I hitched my backpack over my shoulder, and my body caved in from the weight. “See y’all later.” I scooted out of the booth and shuffled through the door. As I headed to the campus, I told myself not to give much thought to what happened. But who was I kidding? Did Collin really want to marry me because he sure didn’t act like it? Then again, neither did I.
Σ
Chapter 2
“Hi, Lexi.” Sara adjusted her red glasses as I entered the small office located in Reed Hall. She was sitting at one of the computers typing in some information as one of the students she tutored gathered their books.
“Hey, Sara.” I waved back.
The more I thought about it, the more I really didn’t feel like meeting with this guy to help him with his paper. My personal life was more than I could handle, and I doubted I’d be able to give him one-hundred percent of my attention.
The door to Dr. Raymond Philips, director for the writing center, opened. “Lexi,” he pointed at me, “I need to see you in my office before your appointment.”
Dr. Philips tended to be high-strung and a little ADD. He functioned like an Energizer bunny on nuclear power, zipping around the office saying random comments left and right. Just watching him made me tired. Aside from his madness, he was a wonderful boss and mentor, and I really enjoyed working for him regardless of the fact that I needed to wear inline skates just to keep up with him.
“Yes, sir.”
As I passed Kyler, a graduate student and a gifted writer with two non-fiction books published on the wars of Texas, he raised a brow. He didn’t have to say anything because I knew what he was thinking. Better you than me.
“Sit, please.” Dr. Phillips shuffled a stack of papers on his desk and fumbled with a few other things. He seemed awkwardly quiet.
I shut the door behind me. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” He nodded, but the expression on his face was less than convincing. “I thought it might be wise to enlighten you about the student you will be working with.”
“Sara gave me the details, so I think I’m good.” I offered as I sat in the chair in front of his desk.
He smirked. “Well, I don’t see how that is possible being that I just got off the phone with Coach Anderson.”
“The football coach?” My stomach tensed and I was glad I didn’t finish my lunch. I had heard a few stories about football players who had made their way into college but lacked the ability to write. If professors wouldn’t pass them, they usually ended up in the writing center and relied on tutors to help them learn.
He perched on the edge of his chair, still fumbling through his paperwork. “Yes, the one and only.”
I hesitated but asked, “Well, what did he say?”
“Ah ha, here it is.” Dr. Philip’s wiggled a cream folder from under a mountain-high pile of papers. He opened the folder, and his eyes quickly scanned the pages. I heard his leg rock underneath the desk and it made my stomach clench tighter. “I need you to give this student one-hundred percent of your best ability. I can reassign the other two students you have been working with if you are unable to handle the load.”
Great.
“Why me?” I placed a hand over my chest. “I mean, maybe it’s best if he works with a graduate student or one of the other professors in the center. I’m not that qualified.”
“Stop discounting your abilities.” He held up a hand. “You are one of the best undergraduates consultants I have working in the center, and frankly, I don’t know who else to pair this student with other than you.”
I leaned back against the chair, anxious to get some air because the pressure was building between us. “Thanks for the compliment, but this sounds crucial, especially if the coach called you.”
He pressed his lips together and let out an audible breath. “It is and I am going to be honest with you. I’ve already had him work with two others and it didn’t work out. So, I’m counting on you to help him. Or I should say Coach And
erson is counting on you.”
Swallowing the lump that had quickly formed in the back of my throat, I managed to say, “He is?”
“And so are the fans, alumni, students…”
A good reason why I shouldn’t agree to help this guy.
“What exactly do I need to do? I mean, what does he need help with?”
Dr. Philips handed me the folder. “Here’s a copy of his papers and reports that Dr. Connor and Lisa Jenkins advised him on. I suggest you review it before he arrives.” He glanced at his watch. “Which doesn’t afford you much time.”
I quickly scanned through the papers, taking note of the red marks and sideline comments. “From what I can tell he needs a good lesson in grammar 101.”
“Exactly.” A smile formed across the director’s face. “According to Dr. Connor and Lisa, they worked with him on structure, outline, and formation, but he also needs some help with common punctuation and grammatical errors.”
“Why didn’t they help him with that?”
“Lisa intended to, but their personalities clashed so she refused to work with him further.”
A laugh escaped. “And that’s our problem?”
The professor winced. “Lexi, I’m surprised you don’t want to help.”
Meet the new Lexi Thompson.
I shrugged. “Sorry. I just don’t see how this is fair.”
This was exactly what I thought it was — another jock that had paid someone to write his entrance essay and momma and daddy, who were probably alumni, bribed people of influence so their star-athlete son could play. I loved helping people but not ones that cheated their way into school. Helping him was the last thing I wanted to do. This was college, not high school, and I didn’t care if he flunked out or got kicked off the team.
“I know. It shouldn’t be, but unfortunately Coach Anderson has asked for us to help him. Or rather, has said he expects us to help him.”
What? I didn’t sign up for this.
“I can’t make him learn or pass his classes.” I shut the folder. I didn’t have to read anymore notes. His type was clear to me. “What makes you think we can work together?”
The director paused, which was rare, and I could tell he was deciding what information to share with me. There was definitely more to this story. “You have a lot of patience and you’re friendly. Not to mention, I think you’re a damn good teacher. I’m positive he will connect with you and will take kindly to your assistance.”
“Oh great.” I threw my hands up in the air. “He doesn’t even want to admit he needs help.”
Crossing his arms, the director raised a brow. “I didn’t say that. He is here on his own accord. The coach has high hopes for him and knows he can get his act together and succeed. He needs a strong tutor and lots of encouragement. The university also has him in a program, and well, I’ll leave it at that.”
A sour taste formed in the back of my mouth. I knew exactly who this was without even looking at the name scribed on the edge of the file folder.
Raven Davenport.
***
I stepped out of the director’s office and entered the main area. Standing in all his six foot two glory was the star quarterback of our universities’ football team. I had never seen him in person, and I felt like a midget looking up at him. Even though I didn’t know him personally, I’d heard and read enough about him to know he was a womanizer and had a drug problem.
Another reason why I shouldn’t help him.
“Hi, I’m Lexi Thompson and I’ve been asked to consult with you.” I made it clear that it wasn’t my choice to help him.
“Lexi. Hmm, I like that name.”
Uh, no you don’t.
His full lips spread, revealing the most charming smile, coupled with a deep dimple on the right. Now I knew why every girl fell for him. But I was smarter than that. “I’m Raven.” He stalled for a moment, his eyes giving me a thorough exam to the point that I bet he knew what color my panties were. “Raven Davenport.” He ran a hand over his short buzz cut, and he looked like the perfect model for an Abercrombie and Fitch ad. Minus his T-shirt.
He was toxic and smelled of sex and drugs. Well, not that I knew what all that smelled like, but his aura beamed bright red warning me to be careful.
“Are you ready to get started? Because we only have an hour.” I held out my hand, motioning to a small table in the corner.
“That’s plenty of time.” He raised his brows.
I rolled my eyes and walked to the table. Taking a seat, I took out the agreement that Dr. Philips prepared. I signed my name, and moved the papers in front of him. “Please sign this.”
Raven leaned over the table. “I was thinking you might want to do this somewhere private.” A seductive grin spread across his lips as he pressed his weight against it, as if testing the durability of the wood.
My jaw dropped. Was he serious? My fiancé didn’t even tease me that way. Although that would’ve been nice. Then again, we hadn’t even made out on a bed much less on a table. I had to restrain myself from slapping him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Davenport?”
He pulled out a chair and sat down. “You can call me Raven.” I guess by the tone in my voice he knew I meant business.
“Please read the agreement, and let me know if you have any questions. I indicated we would meet twice a week for an hour and more if a mutual agreement can be established.”
“Okay. Sounds fair. Do you have a pen?” He held out his hand. His long fingers curled up in a perfect cup. A hand that was made for a football and caressing various female parts.
Whoa! Where did that come from?
Extending my hand, I gave him my pen. He eased it from my fingertips in a gentle motion. “Thank you, Lexi.”
He signed the paper and handed it back to me.
“Aren’t you going to read it?”
Shaking his head, he said, “No, I trust you.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
“Not yet.” His green eyes sparkled. “But my gut tells me we’re going to get to know each other real well.”
It was obvious why Lisa didn’t want to work with him. I made a mental note to call her the second he left. I sucked in a quick breath and let it out to clear my head. “Whatever.” With haste I removed my Hodge’s Harbrace Handbook and another pen from my backpack. I opened the folder Dr. Philips gave me and took out his papers.
“I reviewed your file and—”
“You and everybody else.” His head lowered and his shoulders sunk.
I continued, unsure of how to handle the comment. “I have an idea of where you need the most help with your writing.”
His head popped up and a layer of relief removed the downward slope of his lips. “You do?”
“Yes. I think we should start with some grammar basics.” I opened the book to the first chapter and moved it between us. I placed one of his papers below the book, prepared to show him examples so he could relate easily to the concepts. “I’ll give you a quick and dirty overview of the parts of speech to start off.”
He moved his chair closer to me, and a fresh sent of juniper and bergamot swept over me. The guy smelled like a cologne insert from one of my magazines, and I tried hard not to breathe it in. But the more I tried not to, the more I loved the smell.
Darn, I wish Collin smelled that good.
He flashed me a grin. “I like it quick and dirty.”
I wanted to slap myself. Could I have used a poorer word choice? “I’m sure you do Raven. I mean, you’re a guy and a football player.”
“True,” a half smile formed, “but not every guy likes to do things quickly or get messy doing them.”
A rush of heat inundated me. I yanked a hair band off my wrist and pulled my hair up in a messy bun. I raised the sleeves on my shirt and braced myself.
I’ll be damned if I let this jerk get to me.
Ignoring his comment, I pressed forward with my instruction. Raven listened intently and nodded
his head while asking related questions. When the guy wasn’t being a big flirt, he was actually pleasant to be around. I felt sorry for him because he had gone through school without learning grammar rules. Then again, most people never make it a point to learn them and base everything on how people talk. No wonder the guy couldn’t write a proper sentence. The weird thing was his verbal skills seemed fine, but his written skills, well, that was another story.
Helping him might not be so bad after all.
After forty minutes of reviewing grammar syntax, he began to lose interest. He shifted his weight and yawned a few times, stretching his arms that nearly wrapped around me. I scooted to the edge of my chair, praying he wouldn’t rest his elbow behind me. Before he lowered his arms, his phone buzzed. His eyes widened with delight as he looked at the screen.
“Excuse me, I need to take this call.”
“Um, no, you can’t.” I pointed to a sign on the wall. “Policy says—,”
“Hey baby, what’s up?” He answered the phone, ignoring me and the rule of no talking on the phone in the writing center.
He rambled about his schedule and practice for a minute or so before shifting gears. I contemplated if I should get up and tell Dr. Phillips. That would mean instant removal from the writing center and I wouldn’t have to help him. Then again it probably wouldn’t matter because the coach had called in a favor. I started to stand but stopped when the lure of his voice made it too hard to resist listening to his conversation. His smitten words rolled off his tongue and he sounded like Eros himself. Warmth rose from my belly, and I turned around to see who else was in the center. Luckily, Sara had already left and Kyler was talking to a student and not paying much attention.
Raven was having phone sex with the girl he was talking to!
Visuals flashed through my mind, and my face burned hearing the words he spoke. I covered my ears but it didn’t help. My heart raced, and my breath quickened. I shifted in my chair, crossing my legs tightly until my feet went numb.
“Yeah, baby, right there.” He winked at me.
I gasped. “I’ll be right back.” I rushed out of the room and headed straight for the bathroom.