Page 83 of The Exception

She finally pulled away to unlock the door and Trav followed her in, dropping his backpack by the door and kicking off his sneakers.

She went to the fridge for some water to cool herself off. “How long is that pre-exam that’s due this week?”

Trav followed her, pressing his palms to the counter on either side of her, boxing her in. “I forget.”

“Mmm. Convenient.” Everything about this was tempting after a long day at work, but she wasn’t going to be responsible for him slacking off at school.

She broke free. “Why don’t you get it done while I pour some wine? Then we’ll have the rest of the night.”

He laughed. “I’m not going to waste time on homework when I’m here, Sonya.”

“Homework is not a waste of time.” She smiled. “And I don’t put up with you three days a week just so you can slack off on the written part of class.”

“Put up with me, huh?” That mischievous glimmer was back in his eye. He slid a hand up her neck, cupping her jaw. “It must be such an inconvenience.”

He dipped his mouth to her neck and her breath went short. “I suffer daily.”

“Liar.” He grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the counter. Stepping between her knees, he kissed her again.

“Wait.” She pushed his chin with her finger. “I think we need a rule.”

“Another one?”

“Homework first, then sex.”

He shook his head, looking like a sad puppy. “I hate that rule.”

She shrugged. “But it makes sense.”

Trav pulled away and sighed. A pink flush had crept up his neck and her resolve was splintering so she jumped off the counter.

“We could make it a game,” he offered.

She laughed. “Only you would find a way to make work a game.”

His chuckle was small and forced.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’ve just heard that before.” He gulped some of her water. When he turned back, his smile had reemerged. “If you want to be the teacher outside of school, Nurse Pope, you’re going to have to make this worth my while.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that work.”

He shrugged. “Pour some of that wine you mentioned and help me. I get a question right, you give me a reward.”

“A reward of what kind?”

“I’ll let you guess.” He winked and walked to the door to get his backpack. When he’d set up his laptop on her coffee table and gathered a notebook and pencil, he plopped down on her couch, his legs wide.

She watched him curiously. That little voice inside her head that knew him oh too well whispered that he was up to something.

When he reached back and pulled his scrub top over his head, tossing it aside, she nearly spit out her wine. “Cheater!”

“What? I always study shirtless.”

She traced the line of his pecs with her eyes, her taste buds flooding. His skin had a golden hint to it from the time at the lake and the low light of her living room. He was the worst.

“Fine,” she said. She met him at the couch, standing toe to toe, and he leaned back looking cocky and sure that he’d won.

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