The Tutor

(21) There's Always Something (Part 3)(Jennifer Moore)

"One more."

His words echoed in my head as I wrapped my arm around his torso to keep him from falling over. Having all his weight on my shoulders as I struggled to keep him up was definitely better than any resistance training I've attempted to do, and I felt like by the end of the night my arms and shoulders would be sore. I didn't mind because, oddly enough, it kind of felt good to be needed by him.

Just admit that you like him.

My thoughts were interrupted when Wyatt started to chuckle as we continued walking down the sidewalk towards his Camaro. I studied the side of his face. It was aimed towards the ground and I noticed he had a goofy smile stretched across his lips. I shoved the feeling of pure terror to the back of my mind because a part of me thought he heard me. I was reassured when he spoke.

"I am so sorry," Wyatt managed to say, even though it sounded like he had no control of his tongue any more. He laughed some more and continued to lean against me as we walked. "I didn't mean to drink so much."

I laughed lightly as we approached his car, and I guided him over to the passenger side door. "It's okay," I told him, and made sure his back was pressed against the car to support his weight before removing my arm from around his body. I stepped away from him, trying to think of my next move in order to get him home.

I chewed the inside of my cheek. I couldn't call anyone because the only two people I knew of that were his friends were drunk as well. Walking wasn't an option—I mean, I could drive him home but he was too drunk for me to understand what he was saying half the time so we would end up lost. I couldn't just leave him here either, and plus, I needed to get home as well.

I zoned back into reality and noticed him staring at me. Without thinking, a blush absently made its way onto my cheeks and I smiled at him, unsure as to why he was staring at me the way he was. Even through his drunkenness he seemed... charming enough to captivate me.

I'm pretty sure I could figure out where he lives... he can't be that drunk.

Sighing, I stepped closer to him. His eyes followed my actions as I cautiously stopped in front of him and tucked some loose strands of hair behind my ear. "I'm gonna get you home," I told him slowly, never losing eye contact with him.

His eyes were droopy, and he hadn't responded to what I said, but I could see the excitement dancing in his blue eyes as he continued to watch me. He didn't move or say a word as I inched a bit closer and slowly reached towards the pockets of his pants. His keys had to be there.

I did it one at a time. I placed my hand on his thigh and slowly rose my hand up to try and feel something poking through the jeans he wore. They were kind of loose fitting, but not too loose that they sagged on him; they fit him perfectly. I felt there for a few seconds, pressing down on random areas but trying not to get too close to his mid region.

When the first attempt was unsuccessful, I repeated the pattern by placing my hand on his opposite thigh. I pressed and felt along his pants until I finally felt the small metal pieces. I sighed from relief, and averted my gaze towards the ground.

He laughed, and I felt embarrassed for some reason. I was trying not to think... dirty but it felt impossible with him. He makes me want to think like that and be like that, and even "do" like that. But I had to stop myself.

"You seem disappointed," he teased, catching my attention and causing me to look at him with wide eyes. I could feel my breathing hitch when he spoke but I didn't know why.

Because he's right.

"I don't know what you mean," I voiced, pretending to be unbothered by his statement. Pushing my shyness aside, I became more determined and reached in his pockets without a second thought. The deeper my hand went, the more unwavered I felt, and I didn't stop until the metal brushed against my fingertips. I pulled them from his pocket and he laughed, tilting his head to look down at me.