Page 26 of The Jack*ss in Class

I set my phone down and picked up the book Catalina had brought, running my fingers over the gold foil letters of my pen name. She’d even bought the special edition.

“What am I doing?” I asked the donkey.

He just blinked at me, then went back to methodically destroying a throw pillow one tiny, baby donkey bite at a time.

Baby Donkey had the right idea. One problem at a time.

First, find the donkey a home outside of the sorority house. Maybe even a forever home. And a forever name.

Then figure out how to keep my agent happy without exposing my identity with —eek— press.

Then deal with my family, school, graduation, what to do after graduation, deal with Mamá...

Then maybe, possibly, figure out why Flynn Kingman’s text messages made me want to simultaneously smile and throw my phone out the window.

Or maybe I’d just ignore that last one entirely.

HOT FOR TUTOR

FLYNN

Iwas fifteen minutes early to our faux tutoring session, which was probably some kind of record. Usually I rolled into stuff exactly on time, a habit that drove Gryff crazy. But lately I’d been finding reasons to show up early to the quad’s coffee shop. No mystery why. Just the slim chance of catching Tempest alone, without her walls up.

Today that strategy paid off, but not in the way I’d hoped.

I heard her voice before I rounded the corner, whispering, but sharp with frustration. “I can’t just drop everything and fly to L.A. next week. I have commitments here.”

Slowing my steps, I lingered by the wall. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but something in her tone made me pause. I’d never heard Tempest sound rattled before.

“You don’t understand,” she continued, her voice dropping. “It’s complicated. The timingis impossible... No, I’m not being difficult. You’re the one who promised I could maintain my pri?—"

She cut off abruptly. I peered around the corner to see her pacing the length of one of the private study rooms across from the coffee shop, one hand pressed to her forehead. Her dark hair was piled in a messy bun, and she wore an oversized DSU Dragons sweatshirt that made something in my chest tighten.

And my pants. Because now I was imagining her wearing my jersey and... nope. Shit. If I went any farther with that image, I’d need to hide one hell of a woody behind my books.

“Listen, can we table this until after spring break?” She sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yes, I know it’s a huge opportunity. Yes, I know these people don’t wait around... Fine. Send me the details. I’ll figure something out.”

She ended the call and dropped into a chair, pressing her face into her hands and halfway to hyperventilating. The gesture was so unguarded, so unlike her usual composed self, that I felt like I was intruding on something private. I waited a few seconds, then deliberately scuffed my shoes against the floor as I approached.

Tempest’s head snapped up, her expression smoothing over so fast it was almost scary. “You’re early.”

“Showered extra fast, just for you,” I lied, dropping my bag on the table. I’d postponed my weightlifting to this afternoon. “Everything okay?”

“Fine.” She was already pulling out her color-coded study materials, spine straight as a ruler. “Let’s pick up where we left off in class withOthello.”

I sat across from her, studying the tight set of her jaw. “You know, it’s okay to not be fine sometimes.”

Her hands stilled on her notebook. “What makes you think I’m not fine?”

“Just a feeling.” I kept my tone casual, though there was nothing casual about the way my pulse kicked up when she finally met my eyes. “Also, because that’s not your Shakespeare notebook, and it’s upside down.”

She glanced down at the notebook and gulped, then swept it back into her bag.

A flush crept up her neck. “That’s... nothing. You agreed to no questions about my notes. Pretend you never saw it.”

Like that was going to happen. “Already forgotten.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Why do I think you’ve got a memory like a steel trap?”

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