“Money is just a part of my life,” I warn him. “If you can’t handle it?—”
“I can handle it.”
“Good, because I’m only just getting started with you,” I say before I rap my knuckles on the top of the car, and Yuki opens the door. After I slide out, I don’t look back as I stride across the concrete parking area before my family’s office space. The gleaming glass building stands tall and proud, and as I watch, the spinning doors open and a five-foot woman wearing tall heels rushes toward me.
“Sir,” Sarah, my secretary, greets me. “Mr. Yuki called me to attend the meeting with you since he will be busy.”
I nod my head as she falls into step at my side.
“Sir, your shirt.” My secretary blushes, and I glance down to see it gaping slightly around my middle and misbuttoned.
Straightening, I try to fix it before realizing it is missing a button. Ismirk, and when I glance back over my shoulder, Nikko holds it in his fist. With a wink, he climbs back into the car, shutting the door.
“Should I get you another shirt?” she asks in confusion.
“No, leave it. I like it like this.” I watch the car go with a shake of my head.
He has no idea what he’s in for, and I can’t wait to show him.
FIFTEEN
After my early morning training, I pack my bag and head to Pine Valley College. When I first visited, it terrified me. I felt odd and out of place, but there are so many different types of people here, I soon realized nobody cares where you come from or what you do. They only care about what your goals are.
Pine Valley is a place to make them happen.
Most people have grand dreams to be artists, photographers, or lawyers. Me? I just want to graduate college to say I did. I always struggled at school, and I barely managed to graduate high school, but I’m determined not to let my brain hold me back. I want to be a college graduate. I’m taking Intro to Physical Therapy, but it still involves a lot of studying, and that is the part I struggle with. Luckily, the college was incredible about it, and I take classes part-time so I can still box. It is not something I tell a lot of people, and I’m not ashamed, but this is for me.
This piece of my life is mine, and I want to do well at it.
Walking to a bench by the foundation, I smile when I see Ripley. His nose is in a book, his thick-rimmed glasses are perched on his nose, and his blue hair is messy. He’s cute in a nerdy way, but he’s not my type. He’s also an incredible person and my tutor. His brain is soimpressive, it scares me, and when I sit next to him, he shoves my paper back to me marked to hell.
“Shit,” I mutter as I stare at all the red corrections and notes.
“It’s better than the first one.” He grins as he raises his head. “You’re understanding the material better and are able to connect it and make assumptions. You’re doing well, Nikko, so don’t be hard on yourself. It’s just your?—”
“Ability to form sentences and words,” I finish. It’s something I’ve heard my whole life. “Putting together a cohesive thought?—”
“Which is why I’m here to help you.” He pats my hand awkwardly. “We’ll get you to graduate, Nikko. I promise. You’re putting in the work, and that’s all I ask. You’re improving.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I tell him. “Probably fail.”
He grins and glances at his book as I pull out my own. Sometimes, I just read in his presence so he can explain things I don’t understand. He also helps me with papers and quizzes, while I help him learn his body’s limits and improve them. It’s a good deal, one I didn’t understand at first, but he seems happy with it.
Hiding under his polo shirt and jeans is a killer body thanks to me. I’ve never asked why it was important to him, but one night, I saw him struggling in a local shop. When I asked if I could help, he told me his mom and dad owned it and he assists them as much as he can because they are elderly and had him late in life.
That’s Ripley for you, dedicated and kind to a T.
It means he’s always studying or working, and I worry that it leaves him no time for friends or love, so I asked him about it one day, and he explained it isn’t easy to find someone who can fit into his life. I’ve never pried, but I’m curious now as I stare at him.
“Do you want love?” I blurt, and he blinks. “Sorry, I was just thinking. I mean . . . do you think love is important?”
“I do,” he replies slowly as he thinks his answer through. Ripley never says anything he’s unsure of. “I think everybody needs love in some way, whether it’s romantic or familial. I think love is very important for our happiness.”
“Do you want to find love?”
“Do you?” he counters.
“I didn’t think I did,” I say, looking at my book. “I’m not easy to love. I’m . . . different, but I’m starting to think maybe I do.”
