Tutor Chic #2nd book of the Chic series

5: up and at'em

5: up and at'em

The door knocked again, for the second day in a raw. This time, Cain had a good idea of who that might be.

"Go away." He groaned into his pillow. His muscle protested, apparently he was sorer today than he was yesterday.

In all honesty, he didn't want the redhead to go. In fact, he was excited to see her again.

Imagine that, him excited. A feeling he could barely recognized. He wasn't sure if he welcomed it or not.

"Cain." Her voice came from behind the door and made his head shoot up from the pillow.

Another knock.

"Fine." He groaned, not sure she heard him. Not sure he was talking to her but himself. "I'm coming."

Pulling himself up from the bed proved harder than it seemed. He ached from the neck down.

"Fuck." He hissed as he bent down to retrieve his shirt and pulled it down his head. He couldn't let her see his bruises now, could he?

Would she be horrified at seeing them? Would she be concerned?

Pushing the disturbing thought of caring about her opinion away, Cain trudged toward the door.

"Good morning sleepy head." Faye chirped and pushed past him as if she owned the place.

Wait. Sleepy head?

Humming an incoherent respond that sounded more like grumbling, Cain shut the door and turned.

Faye was making herself comfortable on the floor in front of his coffee table. The papers from yesterday still arranged on top of the table.

"Why are you on the floor? There's a couch right there." he didn't know what pushed him to say that, but he gestured to the couch in front of the table anyway.

Faye gave him a bright smile that should've blinded him and said, "Oh, no. We don't want to get too comfy, now, do we?"

Do we? A picture flashed in front of Cain's mental eyes at the two of them getting comfy on the couch.

Shit!

Without warning, Cain bolted to the bathroom with an unnatural speed. He needed to get away from this girl. She was playing with his senses. And he could never have that. He had to get a hold of his depression. He needed to keep his emotions an ocean away.

Washing and dressing up never seemed to take so long. He was constantly thinking of the girl outside. He had to leave.

"You look nice." Faye beamed at him when he walked outside. Another jolt of emotion he didn't want to recognize shot through him at her complement. He looked away but he could see her in his peripheral vision looking away from him and back to the papers on the table, "You're not leaving me alone again, are you?" her voice was soft. Almost disappointed.

Hating himself –even more than he already does- he racked his fingers through his hair roughly, moving to the door without sparing her a glance.

He knew that that glance would stop him short and make him reconsider ditching her again. But what was he supposed to do? Sit and study with his unnerving tutor.

When he reached his hand to the small shelf beside the door, all he could feel was the cool, hard surface of the wood. A glance down with a confused frown proved to him that no, there was no keys on the shelf.