But we are at the library and we are not going to talk about—let alone have—sex, because that’s where this conversation will lead if I don’t redirect it.
“Seriously, though. Have you ever tried audiobooks?”
“I gave it a shot when I was a kid, but the selection was shit. So when everyone else was reading Harry Potter and The Hobbit, I was devouring the movies.” Parker drums his fingers on the table, a nervous habit I noticed during our last meeting. “For obvious reasons, pleasure reading isn’t a hobby.”
“The world of audio has transformed in the last five years.” I don’t want to push, but there’s interest in his eyes when he jokes about my romance books, and something tells me it’s more than just the explicit content that intrigues him. “You should give it another try. It’s not like listening to a textbook and these days you can find fantasy or whatever else revs your motor in audio.”
“Including smut.”
“Yes, Parker. Including smut.” I laugh in spite of myself.So much for enemies with benefits. Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve begun to count Parker as a friend. “Which reminds me, what do your initials actually stand for?”
“Aww. Is this your way of telling me you want to scream my name the next time we’re in bed? Because I can make that happen.”
“For the love, do you ever think about anything but sex?”
“Not when it comes to you.” He reaches under the table and his fingers slide up my thigh.
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted right now.”
“Flattered,” he rasps, pulling me in for a kiss. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
A thrill races up my spine, images of Parker fucking me in the stacks filling every dark corner of my mind.
Stay strong, chica.
I turn my head, dodging his lips. “And yet I don’t even know your first name.”
“Devin Jeremiah.” He skims his thumb over my cheekbone. “Now can I kiss you?”
“Devin.” It rolls right off the tongue.Just like your screams when he’s going down on you. “Does anyone call you by that name?”
“Only when I’m in trouble.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” A flash him a sassy smile. “Now let’s get back to work, Devin.”
27
PARKER
“Damn, Shorty.”My blue balls and I flop back in the chair. “That’s stone cold.”
“Work first, sex later.” Sutton jabs a finger in my direction. “And don’t think for a minute that I’m going to let you off the hook for your half of the paper.”
Heat prickles along my skin, but it’s not embarrassment or desire. It’s something like gratitude. Because despite learning about my dyslexia, Sutton won’t take it easy on me. She’s going to hold me to the same high standard I’ve come to expect, and she won’t stop giving me shit out of some misplaced sense of pity.
Thank fuck.
I hated it in high school when teachers would give me unnecessary accommodations or when my partners for group projects would bend over backward to ensure I had the lightest workload. Or worse, offer to do the project entirely because they were afraid I’d tank their grades.
Dumb jock, my left nut.
I exhale and shove the memories down, putting them in a box where the passive aggressive slights and childhood bullying can’t chip away at my confidence.
“Thanks for not making a big deal about it.” I slide Sutton’s laptop across the table, returning it to her.
“It’s not a big deal.” She shrugs. “We all have our stuff. No one escapes childhood trauma free.”
“Now that’s a hot take if I ever heard one.”
