Addicted to You (Addicted #1)(47)

He taps the eraser of his pencil on the thick economics text and stares at the numbers. His lips draw into a thin line, trying to figure out how to tutor the stupidest girl at Penn. I’m hopeless. It took three more days of solo-torture before I sucked up my pride and emailed Connor to tutor me.

Now I have company in hell.

“Try this one, Lily.” He slides the book to me and points to a big paragraph. Words. Too many words for something involving numbers. Why can’t economics choose between the two? Having both numbers and words in an equation sends a splitting migraine to my skull.

I struggle for another five minutes before I throw my pencil down in a huff. “I swear I’m not doing this on purpose,” I say quickly. “And I know you’re probably wishing I chose someone else.”

He leans back in the rickety old library chair. We’re holed up in a tiny study room with a white board, a long table, a light fixture and one glass wall to remind us that other people do exist. The perk: I can scream in obnoxious frustration and no one will hear my cries but Connor.

Time ticks by, and the sun has already bailed on us. I’m probably keeping my tutor from his dinner or evening plans. I glance occasionally at his thick, wavy brown locks and deep chocolate eyes, scoring high on the Guy-I’d-Like-to-Fuck chart—or the chart I used to have before I entered a monogamous relationship.

The collar to his navy peacoat is popped, the first sign of his preppy status. Honestly, I hoped for some dweeb with glasses and acne. Someone who wouldn’t entice me so much.

“How did you learn about me anyway?” he asks, intrigued. “Referral?”

“You were listed as a tutor on the economics departmental website. I just kind of went for the coolest name. It was between you and Henry Everclear.” No girls, or else they would have been my first choice.

“So you went for Connor Cobalt,” he smiles in amusement. “Connor isn’t my real first name. It’s Richard.”

“Oh.” My arms heat. “I guess that’s not as cool.” I could smack my head at my reply, wishing for something pithy or witty. Instead, I get dumb.

“What’s your full name?”

I glance warily at the clock on his phone, resting on the table beside my book.

He follows my gaze. “I won’t charge extra.”

I flush further. I’ve definitely heard that before. “I don’t want to keep you from your plans.”

“Oh no,” he says with a laugh, setting down his Starbucks coffee. “I don’t have any plans. I’m actually kind of glad you’re a little slow. I’ve been tutoring freshman A-type personalities for the past few months and they whiz through my problems in under twenty minutes. I need tutoring hours for my resume. The MBA program at Wharton is pretty competitive and any extracurricular helps.”

I should take offense to that, but I can’t argue with the truth here. I am struggling. “Well, I may be a lost cause.”

“I’m the best tutor at Penn. I bet you a thousand dollars I’ll have you at least capable of passing your next exam.”

I gape, disbelieving. “That’s in two days.”

He doesn’t even blink. “I guess we’re going to be cramming for the next forty-eight hours.” He checks his watch and simultaneously picks his coffee back up, taking a sip. “You never told me your full name by the way. It can’t be worse than Connor Cobalt.” He flashes a pearly white smile—the same blinding ones that surrounded me in prep school.

“Lily Calloway.”

His head jerks back in surprise. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Rose Calloway?”

“Sister.”

He grins again. I wish I could tell him to stop. After years of pretending and lying, nothing screams “fake” more than overzealous smiles. “She’s on the Academic Bowl for Princeton, right? We compete against them all the time. She’s wicked smart. I’m surprised you didn’t ask her to tutor you.”

I laugh dryly. “I think you’d have to be built of armor to learn anything from Rose. She’s a tough teacher.”

His eyebrows rise as he finishes off his coffee. “Is that so?” He’s too curious for his own good.

I decide to save him and turn back to my books. “So are you really prepared to lose a thousand dollars?” He may be keen on racking up hours for his resume, but I actually need to learn this stuff.

“My pride is on the line. It costs more than a thousand dollars.” He checks his Rolex watch again. “Do you have a Red Bull at your place?”

Wait? Is he inviting himself over to tutor me?

He sees my confusion as he starts stacking textbooks together. “Library closes in ten minutes. I wasn’t kidding about cramming for the next forty-eight hours. It’s either your place or mine. But I have to warn you, my cat hates girls, and I haven’t cut her nails in a few weeks. So unless you want to be jealously assaulted by Sadie, I suggest your apartment.”

I prefer the Drake anyway. With Lo around, I have less chance to do something moronic. Like listening to my lower brain.

“My place is fine.” I sling my backpack over my shoulder as we leave. “But I live with my boyfriend, so we’ll have to be quiet.”

He whistles. “A junior and shacking up already. That explains a lot.”