Your Tutor

Chapter Eighteen

—Forest Brooks—

I knock on Maylee's door, slightly worried because her text read: hey, come over when you finish your game and shower. With a smiley face. It was adorable, but weaning scary.

The door opens, and I am greeted by a taller man. He scans my body, and I do the same. "Hey," he says. "So you're the Brooks guy? Not what I had pictured."

I don't know if that's an insult or not "And you are...?" I ask.

He nods, taking a step back. "Ja'lyn. Brother of the little one."

A protest comes from the kitchen as I step inside. "I'm not little," Maylee grumbles. She glances at me before eating a strawberry off a fork. "Hey."

I walk over to her and kiss her head. She smells good; like coconut and watermelon. "You told me to come over?"

She nods and points to Ja'lyn. "He wanted to meet you. But he's actually about to go home for the night. So...next time."

"You're going to miss me," the man says, slipping his shoes on. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I won't. I'll cry tears of happiness tonight," she snaps. A feisty little woman, if I must say.

He chuckles, opening the door again. "Love you. Night."

She smiles gently. "I love you, too."

He exits the apartment, leaving just us together in the silence.

I rub my hands on her hips, leaning my chin on her head. I close my eyes, swaying in a slow rhythm with Maylee. God, I'm so tired. But I couldn't say no when I was presented with the offer to see her. It's damn near midnight—I swear that game lasted forever.

Her hands find mine, and she tilts her head back. "You're sleepy, huh?" she asks, frowning. I nod, gazing down at her. "I shouldn't have asked you to come today. I knew you were going to come over super late. Sorry."

I shake my head, holding her close. "I don't mind."

Maylee looks concerned, but that sparky attitude still glazes over her eyes. "Mm-hmm. You can't drive home tired. It's dangerous."

"It's fine. I'll stay a while then go." She looks at me as if she wants to say something, but nothing ever comes out of her mouth. I tilt my head and spin her around so her body is facing me. "What? Why do you look like that?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Nothing," she says, her eyes flicking away from mine. "Just... you could stay," she almost whispers the phrase. "But I don't want to keep you here. And then classes tomorrow, none of your stuff is here."

I grin, moving my hand to her chin to shift her gaze back to me. "What?"

Maylee quickly dismisses me with a shrug. "No, forget it. I shouldn't have said anything," she breathes, tugging on the hem of her own sweatshirt.

"Lee," I start, with a gentle laugh. She's so awkward that it ends up being adorable. "I'll stay."

She sighs, her posture relaxing. "Okay."

A smile covers my face, and I swear she blushes. "You're so cute," I say, cupping her cheeks in my hands. I catch a glimpse of the tiny grin on her lips before she pushes her head against my chest. "Hey, want to get in the bed?" I ask, sliding my hands down the backs of her thighs before scooping her small frame off the floor.

Maylee nods, wrapping her legs around my waist. "I could've walked," she whispers, her breath fanning my neck and her head resting on my shoulder.

"I can put you down," I say with a grin as I move through her bedroom door, kicking it closed behind me.

"That's okay," she chuckles. I put her down on the bed. She gazes up at me. "I hope you don't mind." My mouth moves to question her statement, but when she moves to take her shorts off, I bite my tongue, both literally and physically. "I can't sleep with pants on," she finishes, tossing the fabric in the direction of her laundry basket. She misses by a few inches or so.

I shake my head, glancing at her pretty blue panties. "I don't mind at all," I say before attacking her with my mouth. I kiss her cheeks and jaw before connecting our lips.

She kisses back, a smile on her lips while she shrouds her arms around my neck and locks me in with her legs. For someone who swears they haven't dated a lot, Maylee sure is a good kisser. "Forest," she musters against my mouth. It takes one second of time away from our kiss, but I don't mind. "That wasn't an invitation," she giggles, gazing at me with her deep brown eyes.

I realize just how heavy I'm breathing. I could taste the flavor of the strawberries on her tongue. "How does one acquire an invitation to make out with the gorgeous Maylee Lych?"

Her face lights up with a pretty smile. She looks so natural right now. "Well," she breathes, "all you have to do is ask politely."

"Maylee," I start.

"Yes?" she asks, putting an unnecessary emphasis on the word, as she grins.

I shake my head, tugging her closer to the edge of the bed. "Can I kiss you?" She just stares at me, that same grin on her face. "Please?" I throw in.

Finally, she gives a firm nod. Her lips meet mine this time, and she's laying down on her back, dragging me with her. "Get in the bed," she whispers, rushing out the words before she's kissing me again.

I slip out of my shoes, climbing onto the bed. She rolls over, leaving her on top. My knees bend at the edge of the bed, and my hands hold Maylee's waist beneath her sweatshirt. Her hands grip my hair as she presses her chest flush with mine.

The way her mouth moves against mine gets sloppier the more we kiss. The movements become lazy. I drag one hand up to tangle in her curly hair. "I can only resist for so much longer," I murmur, my lips just above her own.

She presses her forehead to mine, smiling, almost as if she's satisfied.

Maylee climbs off me and lays down on the pillow. "Come," she whispers, stretching one arm towards me. I move into her open arm.

One of her hands rests on my back and the other plays with my hair. I grin before sitting up and lifting my shirt. "I hope you don't mind—I can't sleep with a shirt on. I get hot."

She rolls her eyes, watching me toss the black shirt into her laundry basket, unlike she was able to do. "Are you teasing me?" she asks, clasping her hands together on her stomach.

"No."

"Mm-hmm. Liar."

I smirk and kiss her cheek before laying to the side of her. "What did you do today?" I ask, turning to face her.

She grins, putting a hand between her head and the pillow. "Uh, I slept a lot. Ja'lyn came over, and we talked. And now you're lying here with me." She extends a hand to brush my hair back. "How was your game?"

"We won," I say, taking her hand from my head and bringing it to my mouth. I place a gentle kiss on her knuckles before intertwining our fingers. my high school self was dumb to dislike her. She's too sweet to hate. Too pretty to not want to date. But perhaps that's just from my perspective. I only say that, because, according to Cameron, Maylee has yet to show me her true colors.

Maylee exhales a small breath and circles the tattoo inked on the left side of my chest. It reads 12:38–the time I was born. Her fingers drift to my shoulder, tracing a bruise on my bicep. "Is this from tonight?" she asks, dropping our hands to the bed.

I nod. "Yeah. I got into a fight."

"I know. Is Seb okay? I heard he was down for a while."

"Yeah. He lost his breath–nothing to worry about." I watch her sigh softly, closing her eyes before I say, "I heard you guys go way back." I don't know why a ball of jealousy ran through me when Mackai told me that there was a history behind the two of them. It was a harmless comment, he was just pointing it out. I figured he just wanted me to know.

Maylee stares at me, searching my face. "I guess," she says. "Old friend."

"Mm-hmm."

Her brows crease in question. "Why?"

I shake my head. "No reason." I roll onto my back. Maylee hesitantly follows. She lays her head on my shoulder, throwing her leg over my hips. She kisses my shoulder softly before nuzzling her face into the crook between my neck and shoulder. "For someone who hates being touched, you sure are affectionate," I tease.

She huffs. "It's my love language. That doesn't mean I enjoy being touched. If I wasn't affectionate, I'd just be an asshole who says mean things all the time."

"That's okay. Other than kisses and cuddles, I won't put my hands on you. My love language is gift-giving."

Maylee chuckles. "So, if I ask, you'll buy me food?" she asks.
I nod with a laugh. "You wouldn't have to ask. When I finally learn what you like, I'll bring your favorite things to you at random." She laughs, brushing her thumb over the back of my hand. I kiss her head and smooth my hand over her back. "What's your favorite flower?" I ask. It's a random question, but it's a good place to start. I'll mentally take a note of her answers and write them down later.

"I actually get stuffy around flowers, but all of them are pretty. Sunflowers, orchids, tulips. But I despise lavender. Especially the scent." She tenses but then relaxes. "I like cacti. They're my favorite."

"That's not a flower," I chuckle.

"It's a plant, though. So, close enough."

I hum, thinking up another question. "Favorite fruit? Least favorite?"

She tangles our legs together. "Definitely strawberries–they're number one. Watermelon is a close second. Uh, there's not really a bad fruit. Maybe dragon fruit, there is no flavor."

That makes sense. She was eating strawberries when I came over.

"What about vegetables?"

"I hate tomatoes. And asparagus. And onions. And mushrooms. And pickles." She cringed as she said the word. "I hate them. Basically anything green except for lettuce. Those are just my least favorite."

I snicker. "So your favorite food is a salad, I assume? Caesar?"

She shakes her head. "My favorite food is strawberries. A fruit bowl, maybe. But Ja'lyn says that is not a meal. So my favorite meal is a salad, yes. I tend to crave them a lot."

"I'll keep that in mind." But I already knew that. I caught on after she asked for one after we had sex. And odd craving, but terribly healthy.

"Hmm. What's your favorite color?" I ask.

"Some sort of sage green. What's yours?"

I wasn't expecting the question to be flipped back onto me. "Uh, I'm not sure. Probably a shade of yellow. Pale yellow, maybe. I don't know."

She breathes out a chuckle. "That oddly makes sense. I think that suits you." She tilts her head up to look at me.

I kiss her forehead, a smile covering my lips. "Shut up. If you had asked me five years ago, I wouldn't have admitted it."

"Awh," she teases, frowning. "Were you afraid your friends would make fun of you for not liking blue or red? God forbid you didn't like the color red when you're a nineteen-year-old boy."

I shake my head, rolling my eyes. She drops back down to my shoulder, laughing. "Are you mocking me?"

"Yeah."

"You're such a bully."

She kisses my neck, and I have to physically bite my tongue so my breath doesn't hitch. "Says the one who actually bullied me," she mutters.

"I said I was sorry," I say.

"And, out of spite, I won't forgive you."

I wish I knew if she was joking or not. Her sarcasm rolls off as her natural voice. I can also say the same with her face. She looks mad, occasionally sad, all the time, even if she swears she's not. Her eyes look like she's glum but her face is plastered like she's angry. I don't want to barge in and ask why she looks sad, but I get curious the majority of the time.

Maylee hauls her body completely on top of mine. She tucks her legs to her chest and uses my body as her own personal mattress. "You're extremely warm," she murmurs, resting her head under my chin. "I'm tired. Am I hurting you?"

I chuckle, rubbing my hands up the span on her back. I slip my hands under her sweatshirt, allowing more skin-on-skin contact. "No, you're okay. Go to sleep."

She nods. "Mm-hmm. I'm trying. Be quiet and let me."

"Goodnight, Peaches," I whisper, holding her tight.

"Goodnight."

Word Count: 2,120

I realize now that in some chapters my word count has a comma and in others, it doesn't. It's pissing me off, so, just know, that I'm not changing something in the chapter, I'm fixing the word count. :)