Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)(22)

Ana fumes in her seat, bending the top of her textbook in tight fingers. I touch her arm, just above her wrist. The skinny muscles under my fingers are as tight as steel cables.

"Hey," I murmur. "Hey, calm down."

Ana's fury melts into something else, and he lip trembles. She scrubs at her wet eyes.

"I want to leave," she says softly.

"No, that's letting her win. Stay right where you are."

I squeeze her hand, then quickly let go. Her fingers touch my palm for a moment.

From the corner of my eye, I watch her sullenly taking notes. She's very efficient and organized in her note-taking, using a divided screen to jot down questions and ideas as she goes. I only jot down what subjects Grandolf is covering so I can brush up a bit before the tests.

Anastasia is like steel, hard and brittle at the same time, but there's a softness in her too. Hit her too hard and she might shatter.

Oh stop being a romantic idiot, Jason. She doesn't need a hero.

Doesn't she, though? After all, she is a princess, and I am a knight. Sort of. A Knight.

Grandolf doesn't call on her again for the remaining forty-five minutes of lecture. In fact, she ignores us both. It's odd she hasn't called me, as she usually does once per class, often for the more difficult questions. When she's done, she practically beats the whiteboard to death scribbling down the homework assignment: more dumb review questions.

As the students file out, I rest my hand on Princess Anastasia's. "Hold up a minute."

"I have another class in fifteen minutes."

"You'll make it. I just want to ask you something."

"If it's asking me to sleep with you, the answer is no."

"I do want to ask that, just not this minute. Are you all right?"

She blinks. "All right?"

"You looked pretty broken up earlier."

She tucks the offending paper with its failing grade into her messenger bag and stands up.

"Let me walk you to your next class."

She glances at her guards and chews her lip. Something in my chest swells. She's thinking about it. She's thinking about it.

"Very well," she says. "Hands to yourself."

After I slip my bag on my shoulder, I clasp my hands behind my back and walk beside her. Her guards fall in closer, within listening distance.

Well, that's not awkward.

"If I need a tutor, I can get one from the Academic Affairs Office."

"Me too. I don't want someone from the Academic Affairs Office, Princess. I want you."

She snorts. "I had hoped you were through making lewd propositions."

"I said I want you for my tutor. You're the one that made it about sex."

Bearded Guard growls at me.

Like, literally.

I remain a perfect gentleman right up to the door of her next class.

"I'll consider your offer."

"Good. You've got my number."

She scowls.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hit your head, seriously. If that was a football, I'd have put it right where I want it."

"Where is that?"

I grin. "Down your shirt."

"Your ball is never going down my shirt, Jason."

She turns and walks into the classroom. I give her a casual wave, and her guards give me red-hot-iron death stares that could melt granite.

I nonchalantly walk away to my next class. Then I break into a full-tilt run, because it's on the other f*cking side of campus.

When I get there I check my phone as I slip into my seat. I have one new message.



Anastasia: You may tutor me. Text later. Anastasia Carolien Jacobina Katrien De Vries, Princess of Jyvaslka, Duchess of Karin.



Jason: You sign your texts.



Anastasia: I can't talk now. I am in class.



Jason: You sign your texts with your full name and titles.



Anastasia: Be quiet, Jason.



Jason: You can just ignore me.



Anastasia: You will not have the last word.



Jason: Yes I will.



Anastasia: No you won't.



Jason: Yes I will….



This goes on for five minutes until I give up and let her win. I can picture the scowl on her face perfectly. It brings a grin to mine.

I feel like I can fly.





Chapter Five





Ana



My major course load days are Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. In the morning I have History 204: American History from 1865 to the Present, then Applied Microeconomics, then after my lunch break, Religious History, and, finally, Creative Writing.

As I walk out of my final class of the day, I begin to forget I have two burly men hovering over my shoulders. I barely pay them any attention as I purchase a bottle of water from a vending machine, having exhausted my squeeze bottle earlier in the day. I gulp half of it down and pull my buzzing phone from my pocket.

I initially labeled Jason's number Jason in my phone. Then I changed my mind and decided he should he Horny Man instead.



Are we going to study now?



How about now?