Page 33 of Tutoring Mr. Hotshot

He is my tutor. I will learn what he tells me to.

And then when we close up our studies, I can be the Daddy he needs.

I see it in the way he looks at me. In the way he tries so hard to pretend like I don’t have any effect on him.

It’s no use.

He’s as hooked as I am. We’re meant to be together. That much I already know. No tutoring necessary.

By the time we finish our session, it’s late enough for dinner. “Come eat with me,” I tell him.

He chews his bottom lip. I tug the soft skin from his brutal hold and shake my head.

“None of that. Dinner shouldn’t be so difficult to get a yes from my little genius.”

“It’s not that,” he says.

There has to be some reason he’s hesitant. Why wouldn’t he want to enjoy a meal with me? We’ve already eaten together before. I know it’s not some insecurity thing.

Before I can come up with more possible answers, he tells me, “I’m not sure how I feel about everyone seeing us together. Will they figure out it’s a date?”

I sigh. This isn’t what I want.

Keeping him a secret is not my idea of fun. I want to parade him around and spoil him in the open. He deserves it.

“We can just be tutor and student, like we have been. No one will question it. If they ask about it being a date, you can answer since I’m just a dumb athlete.”

He frowns. “You are not just some dumb athlete. This material is hard for anyone, but especially for someone trying to learn everything new. This is a different country, and you’re working hard to keep up with the team. Struggling with classes was inevitable.”

The encouragement from him settles the frustration I felt about hiding our relationship. I love that he wants to keep me thinking better of myself. He’s the first person who has ever tried to.

We decide to get pizza at the small family-owned place downtown. It’s near the Bears hockey arena, which I have yet to check out.

“Isn’t there a game tonight?” he asks while he drives us over.

I feel bad he has to take us around. A vehicle is low on my priority list. It’s also well out of my current budget.

“There is.”

At my confirmation, he parks at the pizza place and tells me to grab a table. He pulls out his phone, and I wonder exactly what he’s planning.

I ignore the millions of questions I want to ask as I approach the hostess. “Table for two, please.”

She smiles, then nods for me to follow her. The table is off to the side, though still mixed in with the others enough for us to feel like part of the crowd. Families and couples are spread out around us. I smile and nod to each person that catches my eye, careful not to linger too long or give them any false ideas.

The best part is how I have a view of the entry to see when my little genius comes inside. He tells the girl something, then she shakes her head. As I watch, she shifts to block my view. It’s almost like…

Is she fucking trying to hide me? Like I’m not here for him?

Rage has me up and rushing over to where she stands. The closer I get, the better I can hear the conversation.

“No, sir. There isn’t anyone here by that description. If you can’t leave, I’ll have to call the police,” she says in a harsh tone.

Rodney scowls. “Don’t bother. I’m just — ”

It’s then he notices my approach. I nod to him, then shift around the girl.

“Oh,” she says, bouncing back and giggling like she wasn’t just being rude to my date.

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