Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)(24)

"It was your legs, and it was five minutes ago. I have a good memory."

"So you remember this morning when you were sitting on—"

A flush creeps up my neck. I do in fact remember. I remember well. I glance at his crotch and remember very intensely. I look up and he's grinning.

"You are so damn cute. Cuter when you're embarrassed."

"Are we going to study? If not, I am leaving."

He lets out a long sigh. "Yeah. Do you want to go first, or should I?"

"We shall study your subject first. Show me where you are having trouble."

He sits up and spreads out an exam paper on the table. I slide it over in front of me and look it up and down. He is going through these geometry problems all wrong. I tap the page with my pencil.

"You don't know what you're doing."

"Right. That would be the problem, Princess."

"You weren't paying attention to the fundamentals."

"Right, right."

"Are you listening to me, or am I just here to be ogled?"

"I'm listening, seriously."

I sit up. "Each one of these problems builds on a simpler exercise. Let's us consider the cylinder. What is a cylinder?"

"My—"

"I'm leaving," I tell him and start packing my things.

"Okay, okay. A cylinder is a round thing that's flat on both ends."

"Good enough. Does it have anything in common with other shapes?"

"Yeah, a circle."

"Good." I draw a rough circle on a piece of scratch paper. "A cylinder's two-dimensional basis is a circle. Now, how does one calculate the area of a square?"

"Length times width." He rolls his eyes. "Are we going back to grade school?"

I ignore his sally. "How do we transform a square into a cube?"

"Depth."

"Depth or height, yes, and we multiply the length times the width times the height. In effect, we stretch the square into a cube and measure it that way. Does that make sense?"

"Wait, you do the same thing with a cylinder? Just stretch it?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't they tell me that?"

I shrug. "That is not how they wish to teach you, I suppose."

"Show me how it works. Take me through it step by step."

For the next hour, he is perfectly serious and a perfect gentleman. I take him through the volume and surface area of a cylinder, cone, and pyramid.

"How is it you had difficulty with this before? Were you faking being unable to complete these assignments to get closer to me?"

"No," he says, smirking. "I don't need tricks to get closer to you. Okay, it's your turn. Let's do you."

I raise my eyebrow and press my trembling lips tightly together. Do not smile, Anastasia.

"I meant do your studies, not something perverted. Why would you think that? You have such a dirty mind for such a pretty girl."

I start to blush again and will myself to stop. It only makes my cheeks burn hotter. I try to distract him by pulling out my textbook.

"I'm behind on the reading. I need help with it. I…." I can't finish the sentence. I look down at the floor.

He brushes my arm with the back of his hand. "Tell me."

"I have trouble reading English."

"That's okay. I can't even try to read… whatever you speak."

"No, you can't," My voice chokes a little. "That's different. I'm expected to—"

"Hey, calm down. You don't need to get so upset. It's not that important."

"Yes it is," I shout.

"Hey, library. Shush."

I sink into the seat and sigh. My eyes burn with tears. "It is important."

"Why does it matter so much? I'll get you through it."

I look at my feet. I always look at my feet when I'm nervous.

Unless Mother snatches up my chin.

I look up abruptly.

"Princess? Ana?"

"I didn't give you permission to call me that."

"I don't need permission. People call each other by name when they're friends. I'm tired of the princess. I like Ana better."

I bite my lip. "Mother attended this institution," I tell him. "She never failed a class, or an exam, or a paper, or an assignment. She did it all perfectly. She mastered English before she even arrived. I don't know how she did it. It is such a difficult language to read. I keep jumbling things up."

"I'll help. Come here."

I glare at him.

"I mean it, I'm not making a dumb joke about sitting on my lap. Sit next to me and we'll read and talk about the book. Come on. It's just you and me, and I don't care if you stumble."

I consider it for a moment, then slide along the seat until I'm next to him, hip to hip. He is true to his word and doesn't throw his arm over my shoulders or try to take me into his lap. I am overwhelmed by his presence anyway. He's so big.

He pulls my book into his lap and spreads it open.

"You said you're behind. The marker?"

I nod and he opens the book.