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I shrug not liking how this conversation has suddenly backfired.

When I don’t respond, he asks instead, “So, what year are you?”

I bite down on my lower lip.  “Freshman.”

Which is technically true.  I just don’t bother mentioning that I really should be a sophomore.  Because he doesn’t need to know that.

“So you’re a freshman taking calc III?”

His question has me fidgeting in my hard plastic seat as he eyes me rather speculatively before a slow grin turns up the corners of his lips.  Those damnable dimples flash and wink at me from across the small table separating us.  Which then sets off a little flurry of excitement within the confines of my belly.

“Yes.” I grit out the word as I fight all the butterflies that have just been released within me before giving him my best
I’m-trying-to-make-you-uncomfortable-so-that-you-leave-me-alone-and-never-come-back
stare.

He whistles, apparently oblivious to all my glowering and glaring.  “And you understand calculus II?”

Is he for real?

Of course I understand calc II.

I could probably do calc II in my sleep.

“I passed with a solid A.”

“In high school?”  His eyebrows shoot up as he presses me for an answer.

“Yes,” I ground out uncomfortably.  Leaving, unfortunately, does not seem to be uppermost in his mind at the moment.

He grins then.  “Well, after careful consideration and the interviewing of several potential candidates, I believe you are the best tutor for me.”

His words have me biting down almost savagely on my lower lip.  Apparently I’m not very much of a
genius
after all. Giving in, I finally grumble, “Fine, then let’s just get started.”  So that we can get this over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

“Great.”  That damnable smile of his stretches its ridiculously cute way across his lips as he takes out his calculus book and a notepad.  My belly hollows out yet again.  You would honestly think I’d be getting used to that feeling, but I’m not.  It throws me off every single time it happens.

“So, your name is Cassidy, huh?”  He asks this question rather slyly.  And since we both know that it is, I don’t even bother dignifying it with a response.

Instead I say, “Why don’t you show me what you’re having problems with.”  I need to get this show on the road and him out the door and out of my life.  Although I’m seriously questioning if that’s even a possibility anymore.

Unconsciously my eyes fall to his lips as that kiss tumbles its way through my head for probably the hundredth time.  And it takes just about everything I have inside to force it away.

Seemingly unaware of my discomfort, he flips open his book, thumbing through a few pages before turning it around so I’m able to see the problems.  After a few moments, he gets up and settles himself in the chair next to me so we can both study the page together.  “I’m having trouble understanding the unit on parametric equations.”

Distracted by his nearness, which seems to be a growing problem, I nod trying to focus on the concepts.  Which is actually quite challenging because he smells damn near delicious.  Again, kind of like the ocean and well… just very masculine.  It’s unfortunately intoxicating.  Even though it takes a few attempts on my part, I finally forget about how yummy he smells and slip into my tutor mode as I do my best to re-explain parametric equations in a way that makes sense.  By the time sixty minutes has slipped by, Cole has plowed through four challenging problems. 

What this hour has taught me about Cole is that he is smart and focused and grasps complicated concepts easily when they are properly explained.  Crap.  Like I need anything else to like about him…

We both sit back in our hard plastic chairs before stretching our cramped muscles.

Tiredly he rubs the back of his neck.  “Thanks.  That actually makes so much more sense now.  I wish Professor Ling could have explained it like that.”

Neither one of us comment on the fact that Professor Ling can barely speak passable English.  Apparently Cole has him for calc II this semester and I have him for calc III.  Luckily for me, math has always come easily, so I don’t struggle with it.  I really don’t even need to attend the lecture to understand the concepts.  I could easily get through the book on my own.  But most people don’t grasp mathematics like that.

Which is exactly why tutoring, as a job on campus, works out so well for me.  I can pretty much set my own schedule and in the two weeks I’ve been working here, there have been no shortage of students to help.

With his golden brown eyes holding mine, Cole asks, “So are you done for the day now?”

“Yeah,” I roll my aching shoulders trying to work out all the kinks.  I’ve been tutoring for three straight hours this afternoon.  Not only am I tired, but I have my own studies to get through.  His jean clad leg brushes against mine and my thoughts arrow right back to him.  And thoughts of Cole make the butterflies in my belly wing their way to life once more.  Which leaves me feeling both uncomfortable and slightly shaken. No guy has ever affected me this way.  It’s disconcerting.   

Then he makes everything worse by leaning into my space.  Now I’m able to see the ridiculous amount of gold churning within his whiskey colored depths.  Nope.  I definitely don’t like the effect he has on me.  “Want to grab something to eat?  All this calculus has really worked up my appetite.  I’m starving.”

My stomach takes that opportunity to embarrass me by rumbling obnoxiously. 

One side of his mouth curves up into a knowing grin.  “Shall I take that as a yes?”  He looks like he’s already gotten his way which irks me.

Quickly I shake my head. All the fragile comradery we’ve just forged over the previous hour instantly dissolves as I once again draw my protective armor around myself.  “Sorry, can’t.  I have a protein bar in my backpack.  I need to head over to the library and study for a few hours.”

“Come on, Cassidy,” he cajoles softly.  Those dimples of his pop, almost as if they are trying to break down my resistance all on their own.

Damn dimples.

And I would be totally lying if I didn’t admit, at least privately to myself, that the sound of my name rolling off those sexy lips of his do strange things to my insides.  But as far as I’m concerned, that’s just one more reason to stay as far away from Cole as I can get.

The word
danger
keeps flashing like a bright neon sign in my brain.  And I’m smart enough not to ignore a warning when I see one.

Shaking my head, I finally say, “Yeah, I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”  Spending more time alone with Cole…
definitely
not a good idea.  My fight or flight instinct is kicking in.  Too bad it kicked in a year too late.

“Give me one good reason why it isn’t a fantastic idea.”  He sits back, crossing his bulging arms over his wide chest, as if this is a challenge.  Which it’s not.  I have absolutely nothing to prove to this guy.  My eyes momentarily drop to those well-defined pecs.  Even through a tight fitting t-shirt, I can see the covered contour of them.  Realizing that I’m blatantly staring, I yank my eyes back up to his.  Of course there’s just a bit of a knowing smirk covering his way too handsome face.

Thankfully he abstains from commenting on my drooling.

I clear my suddenly dry throat needing a distraction from the sight before me. “Well, we now have a working relationship.  I shouldn’t be hanging out with someone I’m tutoring.”  I wave my hand in the air.  “I’m sure there are rules or something about it.”

“So there are actually policies written down that state this?  Because if there are, I’d really like to see them.”  When I remain stubbornly silent, he quite naturally presses on. “I’m curious, did they make you take some kind of tutoring oath when you started working here regarding your fraternization with the students?”

My lips flatten because now he’s just making fun of me.  “Okay, why don’t you try this answer on for size- I don’t really want to encourage someone who might or might not be stalking me.  Does that work better for you?”

“Well, that at least is a more legitimate reason for not grabbing some food with me.  But still, we both know I’m not stalking you.”  He looks thoughtful for a moment. “I like to think of it as actively pursuing you.”

My face clouds with a healthy dose of fear and nervousness.  “And what if I don’t want to be pursued?”  I whisper the question and the smile all but falls from his face as we continue holding each other’s eyes.

In the next breath, he reaches out until his large hand carefully covers mine.

My eyes drop to our hands.  Normally I don’t like being touched.  When he grabbed my arm at that party, everything within me had seized up in panic.  But his hand lying gently over mine right now doesn’t trigger anything.  Actually, that’s a lie.  It does do something to me… something I really don’t want to acknowledge.

Shaking my head just a bit I focus on his words.  I can’t understand why he’s doing this.  “You don’t even know me.”  And I don’t want him to know me either.  Not the real me.  Not the one who made such a mess out of her life last year.

Holding my breath, I continue waiting for the sharp knives of panic to bubble up within me.

Surprisingly they don’t.

He squeezes my hand gently before my eyes bounce back up to his.  “What I already know makes me want to find out more.  Is that so hard to believe?”

I gulp before dragging my eyes from his.  As I do, I exhale a slow shaky breath before carefully slipping my hand out from under his larger one.

“I don’t date.”  That is non-negotiable.  There are rules I’ve set in place for myself this year.  And from what I’ve learned, the biggest problem with rules is when you start bending or blatantly breaking them, suddenly there isn’t anything to stop you from totally disregarding them and careening out of control.

And I can’t afford to careen out of control.

Not again.

When I had started at Western a couple of weeks ago, I’d been prepared for the anxiety attacks to start back up again, but they hadn’t.  In the three weeks I’ve been on campus, the only attack I’d suffered from was when Cole had grabbed my arm.  And that debilitating feeling was enough to give me serious pause where he’s concerned.

“How about a non-date then?”

Lost in my thoughts, I repeat with a small frown, “A non-date?”  That sounds suspiciously like a sneaky way of actually going out on a date. Does he think I’m an idiot?

“Yeah, you know, just two friends grabbing something to eat.”  One of his eyebrows hikes up across his forehead.  “You hang out with friends, right?”

“Of course.”

Just not very often.  I’m new this year and I’m not really the type of person who goes out of her way to make new friends.  Sure, I hang out with Brooklyn.  And I begrudgingly go out when she needs a wingman… or wingwoman.

But as for hitting up all the fraternity and off campus parties… in other words- hanging out, drinking myself silly with a crowd of strangers, and screwing around with random guys I’ll never speak with again?

Nope. I don’t do that.  Not anymore.

Blinking, I try shaking off the icy cold memories that are trying to slyly wrap themselves around me.  No, I can’t go down that road again.

“Cassidy?”  Cole reaches out, tentatively stroking my hand with gentle fingers.  “Are you alright?”  Again I wait for thin threads of panic to seize me, but for some strange reason, they don’t.

Finally I force the stiff corners of my lips upwards.  “Yeah, I’m fine.”  Sliding my hand out from under his, I focus on gathering up my books before shoving them haphazardly into my brown leather bag. Still not looking at him, I shoot to my feet.  “Dinner sounds great but I really need to get going.  Sorry.  Maybe next time.”

But there isn’t going to be a next time.

For someone so large, he’s surprisingly agile as he comes to his feet before towering over me.  “You need more than just a protein bar if you’re going to get any work done at the library.  Come on, you’ll probably end up with a killer headache if you don’t eat a decent meal.  I promise we’ll find something fast so you can hit the books.”

Biting down on my lower lip, I hastily debate what to do.  My eyes slide back to his as I weigh the consequences of spending any more time alone with him. 
He’s dangerous
, my mind whispers. 
He makes you feel things you aren’t ready to feel.

“Okay.” Against my better judgment, I give in before emphasizing, “But this is not a date.  It’s just like you said before- we’re just two people getting something to eat.”  It doesn’t mean anything.  My belly rumbles again as if re-solidifying my decision.

There’s a satisfied smile curving his lips upward like he just won that round.  “So, you finally admit that we’re friends?”

I glare but just can’t summon any real anger towards him.  “Don’t push it,” I mutter.  Because we are so not friends.

Holding the door open for me, he grins instead. “Right.”

Walking out of the math tutoring center, I say good night to Lisa.  Even though she waves back at me, her eyes are crawling all over Cole.  Curiously I glance out of the corner of my eye to see if he notices the effect he has on the opposite sex.  I remember the girl from last Friday when we were walking to class together and then the other one who had been waving rather frantically at him.