Page 16 of Most Valuable Player
“You’re spending hours of your day tutoring me and trying to get me back on the field,” I say, poking deeper into this unexpected chink.Can I make this guy angry? What would a pissed Mason Gray look like? “You can’t pretend I’mnotinvolved. There has to be a reason you said yes to this. I’m wondering what that is.”
Mason’s brow twitches. “Keep wondering,” he says, his voice tight, and before I can try to goad him any further, he strides off toward a neon sign hanging over the bathrooms.
Hmm.
I’m interested, admittedly, but Cam Morelli would probably let it go and move along. So when Mason returns from the bathroom, that’s what I do. I pick up that romance book, because the sooner I get started the sooner I’ll be able to leave.
“You’ve done well for your first session,” he says. “Thank you for making this experience mostly painless by listening to me.”
I almost sayyou’re welcome, but there’s this playful glint in his eyes that reminds me of when my dad slides jabs at me beneath his compliments. “You say you don’t hate me, but you take every opportunity to insult me,” I snap, scrunching my nose.
“Sorry.” Mason’s smile spreads, and just when I think I might get to see his teeth for once, he covers his lower face with his sleeve again. “You make it too easy.”
“You think I’m dense.”
“Not true,” he says with an offended gasp. “It’s more like, if I was to shout directly into your ear, I think my voice would probably echo quite a lot.”
“What the hell isthatsupposed to mean?” I ask squeakily, on the brink of shooting to my feet and squaring up. He’s insulting me—I canseeit in the amused crinkle of his giant brown eyes.
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it.” Mason waves me off with his free palm. “Aren’t you supposed to be reading? An engaging romance awaits.”
I scoff, snapping the rom-com book open in my lap. “Why do I need to read twenty chapters about a heterosexual couple hate fucking just to pass my class?” I grumble, to which Mason makes a quiet chirping noise. Did he justlaugh?
“If it’s any consolation, I’ve read eighty percent of the book, and they haven’t had sex.”
Well…that doesn’t sound too bad. “I thought most romances were just porn,” I admit. It’s why seeing this book cover made me feel instant dread.
Mason must notice the relief on my face, because he lifts an eyebrow and says, “I thought you would’ve wanted a smutty book to read. Considering your…uh.” He clears his throat and says, “Knack for relationships?”
His words instantly sour my mood. And my throat. I have no interest in discussing that subject, and I’m at my limit for tolerating his sass, so I irritably ask, “If I send you a paragraph about the first thirty pages before Monday, can we leave?”
Mason’s pleasant expression wilts. “Fine.”
Hell yeah. I’ve made it through my first tutoring session having accomplished plenty, so my impending football career is still within reach.
…Yay.
Right.Yay.I’m excited about that.
“Let’s go, then,” I say, hiking my bag onto my shoulder.
“Go ahead.” Mason snuggles deeper into the love seat, rooting himself. “I’ll walk home.”
I tent my eyebrows. “I thought you wanted me to be your ride?”
“I spend most of my days here or at the gallery. But thanks for driving me.”
I’m not interested in what he’s saying, nope, not even a little, because he’s still the brat who cruelly rejected me. So I won’t wonderabout why he looks so tired and whether or not he was crying last night, or why this is the only place I’ve ever seen his shoulders relax, or what the deal is with the smoking man with the sunken eyes on his porch. “You stay here all day?” I ask, for lack of anything better to say.
He shrugs, then fumbles through his book bag for something to do. “We can study again in a couple days when you start collecting homework. Try to stay focused in class. It’ll make sessions easier if I can jog your memory rather than teaching you from scratch.”
“Meh.” I fish my keys out, then falter. “You going to that bonfire at Ravi’s?” I’m not sure why I ask—I don’t want to see him twice in one day.
At the mention of the bonfire, though, Mason curls in on himself. “Uh. Well. Maybe? I don’t…” His knees fold into his chest, and his eyes glaze, like he’s deeply deliberating his answer. “I guess…yeah. I should probably get out…”
His voice fizzles away.
“If you go, stay away from me,” I say, huffing. “You’ve been rude enough today. Probably because of how much you hate me.”
