“A little. I just don’t understand this. Actually…I don’t understand this either.” She flips several pages back to the offending section and huffs with frustration. Shethunksher forehead against the book. “I’m so screwed.”
“Lemme see,” I say, keeping my voice neutral as I slide closer. Our arms touch. Her bare skin’s soft against mine, and a prickling sensation spreads over me. My heart thuds. I want to tell her to forget about econometrics and kiss me until we’re both out of breath. But that’s only going to make her think more poorly of me, so I bottle it up. Solid.
“Have you taken this already?” Her tone is skeptical.
I hesitate for a second. “No.”
She sighs, her shoulders slumping. Her arm slides along mine, and the blood goes south, leaving the barest minimum for my brain.
“Have at it,” she says. “But it isn’t going to make any sense.”
I take a look at the pages she mentioned. “Which problem doesn’t make sense to you?”
“This one.” She points, leaning closer to me over the textbook between us. Our shoulder brush. But I know econometrics, so I can still parse the text despite the distraction. “Andthatone.” She sticks her finger on a page with another question and long, boring explanation with resentful force.
“Okay. Well, let’s see if I can make them a little simpler.” I then explain the concepts to her without using the terms from the book. No need to make them drier than they already are.
Her stare says,I don’t think you really know this, but I’m going to humor you,but then her eyes change and she slowly starts nodding. Eventually her jaw drops. “Oh myGod! That makes perfect sense!”
I smile, happy she gets it. I don’t generally bother explaining things because it’s usually too much work for hardly any return. That’s why I just let Will copy my homework. But seeing Aspen’s eyes light up is its own reward.
“You’re amazing!” She hugs me, then places a quick kiss on my mouth.
Before she can pull away, I put my hand at the back of her head and fuse our lips for a proper kiss, sweeping my tongue in for a taste of her—coffee, chocolate and all her, laced with a hint of shy heat. She feels so warm and sweet, and I could stay like this until dawn, but she has to study—killing the midterm is important to her—so I pull back before I lose control. I want to respect her needs and boundaries, but it’s really starting to become difficult. I’ve never had to be this patient with a girl before.
But Aspen’s worth it. She’s worth everything.
“Wow,” she says, looking at my lips, then at me.
“You’re welcome.” I wink.
She flushes, laughing softly. “Thank you for the explanation.” Then, reluctantly, she turns her attention back to the textbook. “Okay… Okay…” She goes through another couple of problems. “Okay! Now that I understand that, the rest of it makes sense!”
“Good.”
She exhales softly, moving slightly away to reach for the croissant bag. I narrow my eyes.Should’ve kept the bag closer.
She takes a big bite, then shakes her head and turns to me. “You seriously haven’t taken it? For real? You aren’t just messing with me?”
I shake my head. I know what she’s thinking. Will reacted the same way when he realized I already knew how to price fixed-income securities.
She takes another bite of the croissant like her soul needs soothing from the chocolate cream. “It’s so unfair. But no wonder you said you’re just here for a piece of paper. You could be teaching this class.”
I shrug, since I have nothing to say. Teaching a bunch of unmotivated college kids is my idea of hell. I could be doing something more productive. Like flossing my toes.
“You saved me a lot of time. And some sanity.” She hesitates for a second. “Is it okay if I ping you if I get stuck again? You can get back to me whenever.”
I grin. “Of course.” That’s precisely what I’d love.
So I read something on my phone while she studies, our arms close enough to brush each other. At around three a.m., she can’t keep her eyes open anymore and falls asleep over a notebook. I smile as her adorably soft mouth moves likes she’s whispering to herself in her sleep, and send a few texts to the concierge service I’m using to make some minor adjustments to our spring break.
* * *
D-day.
My Maserati convertible is spotless and gleams like a pigeon-blood ruby. Freshly washed and waxed. The drive to the airport is short, but I’m not picking Aspen up in an unwashed car.
I park it by Howell Hall and text her to let her know I’m here. Then I get out and wait for her by the door, trying to look cool even as excitement crackles through me.
