King of Greed (Kings of Sin #3) by Ana Huang

“Don’t you have other things to do?” I asked when Alessandra and I finally settled into a booth. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Like I said, I’m a night owl.” She gave me a mischievous smile. “And I heard the milkshakes here are really good.”

I snorted, reining in the small laugh that’d almost escaped. “What happened to not being here for the food?”

“Technically true, but I’ll never turn down a shake if someone offers me one.”

“Right.” She had to have an ulterior motive for showing up. People didn’t go above and beyond like this out of the goodness of their hearts.

Alessandra must’ve picked up on my lingering suspicion because her teasing expression sobered.

“Look, I know you don’t trust me yet, and I don’t blame you, but I want to make one thing clear,” she said. “I’m your tutor, not your mother or a drill sergeant. I promise I will do my very best to help you pass English, but this is a partnership. You need to work with me, and if you really don’t want to—if you feel like I’m wasting your time and you would rather never see me again—then you need to say so now. I don’t give up on my students, but I’m also not going to force them to do something they don’t want to do. So tell me. Are you in or are you out?”

Surprise flitted through me, followed by begrudging respect and something infinitely more uncomfortable. It formed a knot in my throat and blocked my knee-jerk defensive response.

No one had ever called me out quite so calmly and effectively before. No one had cared enough.

“In,” I finally said with no small amount of reluctance.

Maybe this was an act and she’d walk away after her initial enthusiasm waned. She wouldn’t be the first one. But something in my gut told me she’d stay, and that scared me more than anything else.

Alessandra’s shoulders relaxed. “Good.” Her smile returned, a warm beam of sunshine beneath the fluorescent glare of the overhead lights. “Then let’s get started, shall we?”

Over the next two hours, I understood why Professor Ehrlich sang her praises so highly. She was a damn good tutor. She was patient, encouraging, and empathetic without being condescending. She also came more prepared than a Girl Scout with a bag full of highlighters for color coding, L-shaped cards to frame sections of the textbook and help focus my attention, and a recorder so I could replay our audio lesson at my leisure.

The most damning thing was, it worked. At least, it worked better than my usual methods of gritting my teeth and persevering through brute determination.

The only downside was how distracting Alessandra herself was. If she talked for too long, I got lost in her voice instead of her words, and every time she moved, a faint whiff of her perfume drifted across the table, clouding my thoughts.

Christ. I was a grown man, not a hormonal teenager with a crush. Get it together.

I reached for the blue highlighter at the same time she did. Our fingers brushed, and an electric current jolted up my arm.

I yanked my hand away like I’d been burned. Pink colored Alessandra’s cheeks as tension coated the expanse of our booth.

“It’s getting late. We should head out.” My voice sounded cold to my own ears even as my heart slammed against my ribcage with alarming force. “I have class tomorrow morning.”

“Right.” Alessandra gathered her materials back into her bag, her face still glowing with a hint of color. “Me too.”

Neither of us spoke during the drive back to campus, but my brain couldn’t stop replaying what happened in the diner.

The softness of her skin. The hitch in her breath. The tiny, almost imperceptible stutter of my heart during the millisecond our hands grazed, followed by the unexpected shock to my system.

I blamed it on sheer exhaustion. I’d never reacted so viscerally to such a small touch, but the body did strange things under duress. That was the only explanation.

Alessandra pulled up in front of my dorm. We stared up at the imposing brick building, and another awkward beat passed before I broke the silence.

“Thank you.” The sentiment came out stiffer than intended. I wasn’t used to thanking people; they rarely did anything that warranted genuine appreciation. “For the ride and for coming out to Frankie’s. You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re welcome.” Alessandra’s earlier mischief returned. “It was worth it for the vinyl booths and fluorescent lights alone. I hear they’re really flattering for my skin.”

“They are.” I wasn’t joking. She might be the only person on the planet who could still look like a supermodel in a shitty, poorly lit diner.

A smile curved her mouth. “Same time next week?”

I hesitated. This was it. My absolute last chance to walk away before she did.

You want to make it big on Wall Street? You can’t do that if you insist on choosing your pride over your future.

I don’t give up on my students, but I’m also not going to force them to do something they don’t want to do. So tell me. Are you in or are you out?

I blew out a breath. Fuck.

“Sure,” I said, ignoring my twinge of anticipation at the thought of seeing her again. I hope I don’t regret this. “Same time next week.”