“You bribing me now, Bells?” I ask.
She shoots me a smile—that gentle one that I fucking love.
She laughs under her breath, shaking her head as she lines everything up neatly. Her fingers move with purpose. She’s in her element now, and it shows.
I watch her longer than I should, noticing the way she bites her lip when she’s thinking.
She glances up and catches me staring.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Just… impressed.”
She smiles again, gentler this time, and damn if it doesn’t hit me right in the chest.
“Alright,” she says, tapping the table once, all business-like. “Let’s get started before you distract me.”
I smirk. “Pretty sure you’re the distracting one here, Bells.”
She rolls her eyes but keeps smiling as she slides a flashcard toward me.
I feel that familiar twist of nerves low in my gut. Last time fucked with my head more than I let on. Reading out loud always has that effect.
It’s not that I can’t read. I can. Mostly. Enough to fake it if I have to. It’s that the words don’t stay where they’re supposed to. They slide around. Swap places. Trip over each other as if they’re doing it on purpose just to fuck with me. And the second I have to say them out loud, it all goes to shit, because there’s always someone watching. Waiting. Counting the seconds until I fuck up.
That’s usually the moment when my jaw locks and my temper flares.
But this is Bells.
She saw it all last time—the hesitation, the pauses, everything. The way I stall, deflect, and joke instead of admitting I’m lost. She noticed it without making a big deal out of it.
And she didn’t look at me with pity, irritation, or that tight, disappointed teacher smile that says they’ve already written you off.
She adjusted quietly, casually, switching things up as if it were no big deal, like I’m not stupid, or wasting her time.
She opens the Sour Patch Kids and places them in the middle of the table. I grab a handful and chew as she begins calmly explaining what we’re doing today.
She slides a few pages toward me, and I notice right away. Short passages, larger font, bullet points instead of paragraphs, wider spacing, less clutter. It’s a version she printed for me.
She didn’t have to do any of this.
No one ever has before.
I glance up and watch her. It’s the glasses. They do something to her, framing her face in a way that makes her eyes stand out. Blue. Clear. Sharp as hell. She sees everything and still chooses what matters. Her nose has that slight curve, enough to give her character. Not perfect, but real.
And her mouth. Fuck. Her mouth.
I tear my eyes away before I do something stupid, but the thought lingers anyway. I keep wondering what her lips would taste like. Sweet. Soft. Or if it would completely wreck me. I’ve been with plenty of girls. I know how bodies work and I know exactly what my cock can do.
But I’ve never kissed anyone before. Never wanted to. Not once.
Until now.
She continues talking, tapping the page with her pen, explaining it as if it’s no big deal.
I nod when I should. Pop another Sour Patch Kid into my mouth. Pretend my chest isn’t tight and my pulse isn’t racing.
This shouldn’t be an issue. But it is and I get the sinking feeling that Bells is about to change a lot more than my grades.
