Tutoring the Player (Campus Wallflowers #1)(43)

I give him a problem, and he jots it down.

With his eyes on the paper, he asks, “Have you even taken probability and statistics yet?”

“Noooo.” I smile. “But I spent some time this past week looking up anything I didn’t know.”

He looks up and grins. “You did that for me?”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Are you kidding? That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” He points the end of his pencil at me. “Sweet Daisy. Told you. It fits.”

Together we work through problems until the sun has set, taking the heat of the day with it. I rub my hands together and then bring them to my face.

Jordan packs up his stuff and then scoots forward, his knees bent. He takes my hands and covers them with his own. His thumb glides along the pulse point on my wrist. “I should get going.”

“Why did you kiss me?” The question spills out with no regard for my ego. If he says he was drunk and doesn’t remember it, I might have to jump from this tree house.

“I wanted to,” he says simply.

“Why?”

He chuckles lightly.

“I’m not fishing for compliments. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s your problem.” His long fingers wrap around my wrists, and he tugs me closer. His minty breath hits my lips, and he stares at my mouth as he says, “Stop trying to make sense of everything.”

There’s an unspoken challenge in his words, or at least that’s how I take it. I inch forward. He lets me come to him, but he reassures me with more soft caresses where he holds my wrists.

My mouth hovers near his, my breaths shallow and my heart hammering in my chest. I bring my lips to his in a ghost of a kiss. And there they are, the tiny sparks all over my body. I tremble everywhere, and Jordan groans quietly, bringing one of his hands to the back of my neck.

I forget to be timid. I forget that we don’t make any sense because it feels so damn good.

His tongue strokes mine in the same rhythm of his thumb along my neck. I raise a hand to his cheek and lightly run my nails along the light scruff and then higher where I thread my fingers through the thick locks of dark hair. He lets me explore.

He’s a good kisser. Playful but intense. Gentle nips and then hard presses of his lips over mine as he steals the air from my lungs.

He pulls me between his legs and wraps his arms around my waist. His fingers dance at the hem of my T-shirt, caressing bare skin and sending goosebumps racing up my side. I want to be closer still, and press into him until his back is against the wall of the tree house and my boobs crush into his chest. My nipples ache at the contact, and heat rushes between my legs.

“Daisy!” Violet’s voice is slow to register above the blood pounding in my ears. When she calls my name a second time, I jump back.

I scramble off Jordan and fix my clothes and hair before answering her. “We’re studying in the tree house.”

She comes to the bottom of the ladder and looks up. My cheeks are on fire, but I hope she thinks it's just the cold air.

“Take a break and come inside. I have a surprise.”





19





JORDAN





Climbing down from a tree house with a boner is a new experience. Thankfully it deflates at record speed as Violet gives us a weird look.

“Why were you studying up there?” she asks. “It’s freezing out.”

“I like it up there,” Daisy protests. “What’s the surprise?”

“I finished your dress.”

Daisy stares blankly at her cousin as we follow her inside the house.

“For the Wallflower Ball,” Violet adds.

“The what?” I ask, brows raising.

“It’s a formal Violet masterminds and has not-so-lovingly named.” Daisy does a cute little eye roll to accentuate her comment.

“It’s going to be epic,” Violet tells me. “Jocks aren’t allowed.”

“Hey,” Dahlia calls from the living room, where she’s holding up a yellow dress. “I’m a jock.”

“Sorry, most jocks aren’t allowed,” Violet corrects.

“This the thing Liam roped me into helping set up for?” I ask Daisy.

“Yeah.” She nods, then turns back to her cousin. “And what do you mean you finished my dress. I thought it was already done.”

“It was, but I think this one might be more you.” Violet waves to Dahlia. The closer she comes with that dress, the bigger it seems to get. So much lace. I think it might swallow little Daisy right up.

“Wait. Is this…” Her words trail off as she takes the dress from Dahlia and clutches it to her chest. “Violet, you didn’t!”

My gaze pings between them. I’m not sure what’s going on, but it’s obvious Daisy is pleased by the dress. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her so unabashedly happy. Her eyes are fucking twinkling, and her smile is so big. Daisy smiling big like that is really something. And I want to see more of it.

She hugs Violet around the neck. “But you worked so hard on the other one.”

“I know, but every time you put this one on, you look so happy. I hemmed it, and Dahlia helped me add the jewels around the waist. Do you like it?”