Tutor Chic #2nd book of the Chic series

3: Total Invasion

3: Total Invasion

Depression. It ate at your insides until you were nothing but a hollow shell.

Cain opened his eyes, one was covered by the pillow that was crushed under him, the other squinted against the tiny bead of light that pierced through his thick curtains.

The last shrink who paid him a visit told him that little memo about depression. Imagine someone confirming what you already know. It sucked, because Cain liked the description.

It was fitting.

Another knock on the door made Cain groan into his pillow. He didn't know how long the knocking lasted. Whoever was outside was surely persistent.

A small wave of anxiety washed over him. What if it was Abby, or her guys?

Nah. He assured himself, relaxing into the mattress again. They weren't that stupid to come to his family house. Plus, they had no reason to come, anyway. He'd already done what Abby asked from him this week.

Closing his eyes, he tried to sink back into the darkness. His body was still aching, and his head... well, his head was another story. It was throbbing and he didn't want to use it. He didn't want to think... About anything.

Another knock made him growl into the pillow. Whoever it was was going to get a good pluming for this.

He didn't want to wake up. If he woke up, he wouldn't go back to sleep. And waking up meant a new, hopeless, lifeless day.

Then a flash of red caught his thoughts.

No. Not the angry red he so often got. The soft, wavy red hair of the annoying little woman he met.

It wasn't a dream, but it sure felt like it.

When he found the broken car blocking his way the previous day, he was ready to go release some anger on the driver. That was when he was met by a huge mass of curly red hair. He felt all the cells that made him sink at the sight, like it was the most relaxing vision he'd ever encountered. And when she turned around, her red, luscious lips parting upon seeing him, he was lost.

Her wide, light blue eyes locked him in. Then she talked. And it was like warm lava pouring into his ice-cold soul.

She stirred his interest. Which was new. He hadn't approach a woman since he was sixteen; not because he wasn't interested. But because he didn't care to be interested. Doesn't make any sense? Well, join the fucking club.

But when he saw the red-head with her surprised expression, he wanted, for the first time in a long time, to sweet talk her, to make her smile and swoon for him.

But of course, he stopped himself. There was no point setting himself up for disappointment and heart break.

It was pointless to try to pursue any happiness for himself.

When the door knocked once more, Cain wrenched the covers away from him. He stared at the door for a moment, contemplating whither to open it or let the intruder fry outside. Glancing at his wristwatch that was on his side table, his eyes widened.

It was seven fucking A.M.

Then everything stopped, as a train of a reminder hit him.

"Good. Tomorrow. Seven a.m."

His mother.

His failed exam.

The red-haired girl.