He wasn’tjusthandsome — he was clever with it. Aware of his looks, he weaponized them. I was sure he knewexactlywhat kind of effect he had on people.
And I despised the fact that I wasn’t immune.
He watched me for a moment longer before he spoke, almost like he was deciding something.
“I didn’t know it was a formal event.” His voice sounded exactly the way he did on TV — clean, Northern edge, vowelsclipped just enough to make him sound like he belonged somewhere colder, where February actually froze solid.
I looked down at my dress and let out a low laugh. “I was at an event,” I explained. I took the chair opposite him, wondering why we were in a meeting room that could seat twenty when there were only two of us.
He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped along the back like he owned the place. “Yeah, figured you didn’t dress like that just to meet me — though I wouldn’t complain if you did.” Dante glanced over my shoulder toward the closed door. “Are we expecting anyone else?”
“No.” I checked my phone, scrolling through the email from the coordinator. When I looked up again, he seemed more relaxed — like he’d already decided how this was going to go.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
His eyes dragged over me in a way that felt both deliberate and lazy. “Not exactly... but if it involves you and me in a room for an hour, I’m not complaining.”
The flirtation was automatic — too quick, too practiced. A reflex he reached for because it usually worked. It made me wonder what he was hiding behind it.
I gave him a smile I’d perfected over years of corporate dinners. Sweet. Harmless. Lethal. “That’s adorable. Let’s try this again, but without the ego this time.”
He didn’t react the way I expected him to — which was to falter, apologize, or at the very least drop that stare.
He laughed.
His laughter was rich and full, like he knew exactly how good he sounded. It rolled right over me, and I hated that it somehow made the air feel warmer in here.
“Glad we’re on the same page,” he said, still grinning, leaning back like we had all the time in the world and this meeting was just for his entertainment.
I slid my phone onto the table and kept my expression polite but cool. I needed to keep the upper hand here. “Oh, we’re not. On the same page, I mean. Now, can we get on with it?”
His grin sharpened like I’d just turned the ball over to him.
Good God, my palms were sweating, and I wondered why he needed an emergency replacement tutor. Was it because he was just so naturally intimidating?
Or hot?Sooo hot.
“I’m here because we need to get your academic check-in completed before tonight.”
His brows lifted. “Check-in? My grades are fine.”
I scrolled through the attachment on my phone, ignoring the way he watched me, as I realized exactly whyIwas here. “Mostly fine. But you’re sitting at a C-minus,just barely, in Education Policy and Governance. If that dips, you lose eligibility.”
For the first time, his grin twitched like I’d just made the scoreboard even.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m a quarterback. I’m here to play football.” The words were clean, each one delivered as if I should agree with him.
“This is part of your degree.”
“It’s part of myrequirements. Whole different thing.”
“Dante, if you want to run your own brand someday — or have a say in how your name gets used by this university — you need to know how this system works,” I said evenly. “You need a tutor. I’ve been assigned to make sure you pass your spring semester.”
His grin tilted, slow and deliberate. “So... you’re my new academic babysitter?”
“This is a ‘you’re one bad quiz away from sitting out a game’ talk,” I said firmly. “Which means I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
He smirked, sharp and sure. “Sounds like babysitting to me.”
