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Gage (The Player Book 6) Page 4
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Wait, that sounded vaguely familiar. Someone named Coulter in the Olympics. A runner. Not that any of this mattered to Becker. What mattered to Becker was getting paid to tutor. And for it to look good on her resume. To add to the great news, she'd already gotten emails from a couple of other students. Right now, she'd take any extra cash anyway she could get it. She’d almost said no too. Shit, she should have said no. But then she’d thought about it. She needed that money. And besides. He wasn’t that cute. Liar. “I still don't get it. Should I care who he is?”
Avery blinked her eyes at her friend, and sat back to pull her laptop out. “You're going to need to take a look at some things. So you understand the gravity of what you are dealing with.”
Becker could only laugh. “Avery, have you forgotten who my dad is? He drags famous people to the house all the time. I learned not to be fazed by it. And the moment you act like you are, they start treating you like shit.”
“You want to tell me that you're immune to fame?”
Becker shrugged. “Sure, I can get star-struck sometimes, but it's a rare thing. Right now, all I know is that this guy wanted a tutor. I'm not too enthused about tutoring an athlete, but you know, beggars and choosers, and all that. I can’t afford to turn down a single job. I had a couple of other people email me about a tutoring slot, too. So hopefully this guy is a total dickweed, and I won't even have to tutor him.”
Avery sighed. “Fine. But I'm not sending you out into the world cold. You, my dear, are going to do some research on the Coulters.”
Becker sat next to Avery, and stared at her laptop screen. The first article talked about one of his brothers, Dax Coulter. About how he’d reformed his bad-boy ways, and was now doing lots of charity work. Becker made a note of the charity work. One of the offices was here, in Los Angeles. She did need to round out her charity volunteer portfolio. Not that the Coulter name being attached made any difference. She was looking for all the ways to make that resume look good.
Avery wasn't kidding. There were hundreds of articles on the family, complete with images. “Jesus Christ, that family is ridiculously good-looking. Do you see his sister? She's gorgeous.”
“Even better, do you see his sister's boyfriend? He’s hot. The article says they met when he was her coach or something.”
There were fewer pictures of Gage than there were of any of the others. His brother Fox featured prominently in a lot of the articles, as he'd just made his first NHL team. His brother Bryce and his wife Tami also made a good deal of articles.
“Well, okay sure, this is amazing. But I'm not sure what this has to do with me. I just gotta get this guy's grades up.”
Avery slid her glance over to her. “Are you sure that's all that this is?”
“Why? What else would it be?”
Avery closed her laptop, and then turned to directly meet Becker's gaze. “Okay, I'm going to ask you this. Just answer honestly. How did you feel when you were watching him?”
Becker's cheeks heated. She swallowed hard. “I don't know,” she muttered under her breath. “How I felt then doesn't matter. All that matters right now is to make sure this guy gets a good grade, and it looks good on my resume.”
“If you say so,” Avery said. “But, it's just you and me here. Just tell me, how did it make you feel?”
Becker flushed, but she told the truth. “A little turned on, I guess.”
Avery gave her wide grin.
Becker frowned. “Why are you grinning at me like that?”
“Because, for the first time in a couple of years, some guy's got you turned on. Given your history, that's got to be a good thing.”
No. That was a terrible thing. She had to keep her focus. Keep her eyes on the prize. That fellowship meant everything. Mooning after some basketball jock was a recipe for disaster.
Five
Becker rearranged her highlighters on the tabletop again. She was nervous. She was here to work today. She was not here to ogle. You need this. Think of the fellowship. That fellowship was the only thing keeping her from walking out. She had to do this.
Admittedly she was nervous about other things too. It didn't escape her that Gage was an athlete and they’d be spending a lot of time together. Time together alone. But to her surprise, she wasn't worried or anxious about that. Maybe all those sessions with Dr. Webber had paid off. Or maybe she was finally getting past everything that had happened and could see every guy for who he was and not as the potential threat he posed. Besides, she knew how to take care of herself now.
Besides, everything in her core intuition told her that there was something trustworthy about Gage. And she had to learn to trust her instincts again.
She'd arrived early, ordered her iced coffee and a cheese Danish, and chosen a table in the corner, where she could see everyone who came in. Setting her order on the table, she pulled out one of the books she needed to read for a class and tried to read while she waited, but focus was impossible, and she only ended up going over the same page three times. Each time the door opened and a guy walked in, her heart raced.
Becker was about ready to pack her things up and leave, despite the fact that it wasn't even a quarter to ten yet, when a group of three or four guys loudly bustled into the café. She saw him immediately. Her skin flushed, and her breathing became short and choppy. After a moment, his friends gathered their coffees and left, leaving Gage looking around the café. When their gazes met, her breath caught. Oh, hell. Those eyes. She couldn't tutor him. Not when one glance from him did inexplicable things to her lady parts. You don't really have a choice.
She gave him a slight wave. Be cool.
His eyes flared wide. “You’re Becker?”
“And you must be Gage,” she said with a nod. She could do this. So he was cute. But he was not the first cute guy she'd been in a room with. And he was a jock. That was reason enough to not think about him—and her lady parts—in the same sentence.
“You're not what I was expecting,” he said quietly.
Recognizing the note of surprise from their phone conversation yesterday, she sighed and defaulted to snarky. Snarky was safe. “Observant and evasive,” she said, with a roll of her eyes, turning her attention to her book as she put it away. “Yup, you're definitely Gage.”
“Sorry,” he apologized, moving to take the seat opposite her. “That was—” He sighed and tried again. “I mean, I remember you. So… Hello. Nice to have a name to go with the face. I see you recovered from the coffee cart.”
She tugged her snug coat of armor tighter, relieved he didn’t mention the other way he might know her. “Yep. Good as new. Are you always so eloquent?”
“Put me in the right situation, and I’m fine,” he said with an easy smile, settling into his seat.
She was so totally screwed. A Gage Coulter smile was like being smiled at by a movie star. Mind-numbing.
“Large groups are my specialty. I can do society parties with the best of them. Girls are a specialty, too. But…one-on-one like this… And us, asking…”
“…for help,” she added, with an unimpressed frown. “You might want to get around to that part, instead of, what is it you're trying to do exactly? Impress me?”
Gage blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly.
“So how does this work? Have you tutored lots of athletes?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t.” Becker's voice was harsher than she meant it to be. But so far, she wasn't inclined to help him. With her experience, athletes were bad news. No matter how much he might pay her. She wanted to leave. To just get up and walk away, but she needed that money. She needed the experience.
He frowned slightly, his darker brows pulling tight over his forehead, forming a crease between his eyes. “I was hoping maybe we could keep this arrangement between us. I just don't want everyone to know. I'm not just any student athlete,” Gage answered with an uncertain edge creeping into his voice. “I'm a Coulter,” he emphasized, as though that should mean something to her
. “I'd rather no one knew I need help.”
She sighed. “And I'm a Johnson,” she said. “You suck at asking for help, and I'm not going to waste my time tutoring someone who's as full of himself as you seem to be. You want to skate by on your name, go ahead. But it's not going to help your grades. And no thank you. I've had a lifetime of dealing with guys who think their names and their hotshot careers are everything. I'm not impressed.”
Before she could finish shoving her things into her bag so she could walk out, Gage reached across the table and laid a hand over her wrist. Another zap of electricity shot up her arm.
He stared at her for a long moment, and she could see the puzzle pieces locking together. “Wait, you're that Becker Johnson? As in your father is Cain Johnson?”
“Yeah, so?” she muttered, pulling her wrist from beneath his hand.
He stood, and she involuntarily took a step back as he completely blocked her view. “So you've probably got a ton of stuff on your plate, and I'm sure having that hanging over your head, the way people look at you when they realize, the way they're always trying to get stuff from you… I'm just saying, I get it.” Gage said. “I'd rather not have someone use my needing a tutor as leverage.”
“So, what? You want me to tutor you in secret?” she asked.
“Yeah. You got it. I know what that's like. People are always looking for ins. And ways to exploit you.”
Becker clenched her jaw and pressed her lips together. She knew he was trying to manipulate her into agreeing to tutor him, but her mind immediately went to someone else who wanted her to keep a secret. The fact that he was trying so hard only made her more resolute. So she ignored the fact that she did understand, that a little piece of what he said resonated. He wasn't sincere in his attempt to find common ground, he only wanted to find that ground so he would have better leverage.
“I think that's what my problem's been,” he continued. “I'm letting the pressure get to me. My parents want me to do well, with my grades and on the basketball court, but it's the thought of being out there on the court and making a mistake that's been bigger to me, that's the one that everyone is going to see. My grades…”
“If you don't fix your grade in English, you might not get to be on that basketball court at all,” Becker pointed out, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Luckily for me, that's your issue to sort out, not mine. I think you should go back to that list from Dr. Brooks. I hope for your sake you learn how to ask for help before calling the next person on that list.”
She strode away purposefully, stopping to dump her trash in the bin by the entrance.
“Becker?” she heard a familiar voice call, a voice that made her freeze in place. Cold, icy fear and revulsion sneaking around her spine.
When she finally forced herself to turn, she found not only Daniel Sanchez coming towards her, but his father, Miguel, as well. Miguel was her father's vice president at Sligo Creek Productions. The two of them had been working for years to set her up with Daniel, but so far, Becker had been able to keep that from happening. Now she was outnumbered.
“Becker,” Daniel repeated, as he closed the gap between them with his father at his side. “Glad I ran into you. What a coincidence. Dad and I were just talking about you.”
“That's no coincidence. Coffee, students. It's pretty much a no-brainer.”
“Well, Dad came down to visit and see the campus on a regular day,” Daniel explained.
“I've only ever been down for things like Parents' Weekend, and the formal tours when Daniel here was looking at schools,” Miguel said, taking over. “Those are times when everyone's trying their best to make things here look nice. I wanted to see what it's really like for you kids day-in and day-out.”
“Can't say I've noticed much of a difference.” Becker hoped they would just let her go, instead of pressuring her to stay.
Gage hovered a step or two behind her, probably waiting for her conversation with Daniel and Miguel to be over so he could plead his case one last time. She needed an escape. She would rather be boiled in tar than talk to Daniel, and she truly wasn't keen on continuing with Gage. But inspiration struck. She took a quick breath before she grabbed Gage's arm and hauled him towards her, dragging him into the conversation.
“There you are, Gage,” she said, pasting a smile on her face as she slipped her hand into his. “We were just talking about the campus. What do you think? Is there much difference between how it is on regular days, and how it is for things like Parents' Weekend and tours for potential students?”
Gage slid a glance down to their joined hands, then back up to her face. He smiled widely, and he gave her a wink. “'Sup, Daniel? Mr. Sanchez. And no, I don't think there's much difference,” he said coolly. “Maybe the food's a little better when they know they're going to be judged by it. And there aren't classes on weekends, of course. But for the tours, this is pretty much how it was when I came with my folks.”
Becker gaped at him. How the hell did he know them?
Daniel stared down at their hands and his brow lifted. “Coulter. I didn't know you and Becker were a thing?”
“Sweetie?” Becker said as sweetly as she could. “You didn't tell me you know Daniel.”
The idiot grinned and nodded, but she could feel an underlying tension there, as he gripped her hand more firmly. Something was up. Then she saw the way Daniel scowled at him.
“Sorry, baby, didn't I mention that Daniel and I are on the basketball team together?”
Daniel frowned at her. “I told you I was going to be on the team when we found out we'd both be going to school here.”
Damn. Had he said something? She made it a point to ignore him whenever he spoke. “Sorry. I must have been distracted.”
Luckily, Mr. Sanchez seemed oblivious to the tension between the three of them. “We spotted Becker and thought we'd come over and say hi. I also wanted to see if she would be interested in joining us for dinner tonight.”
“Tonight?” Becker said, drawing in a sharp breath, as though she were wincing. “I'm afraid Gage and I already have plans for tonight.”
“Oh?” Daniel folded his arms across his chest, his brow raised.
“Yeah, he has a huge exam tomorrow, so we're grabbing something quick, and then we're studying,” she turned to look up at him with a flirty smile. Or what she hoped was a flirty smile and not a pained grimace. If he was surprised, he hid it well. “He hardly has any time, with his practices.”
“So what position do you play here on the team?” Miguel asked, leaning towards them.
Gage's smile went tight. “I'm a point guard. Like Daniel.”
Mr. Sanchez glanced between Gage and his son, then chuckled. “Well, nothing like a little healthy competition. Though I have to warn you, my boy has been practicing all summer at LeBron's workshop in Cleveland. You know, had to pull a few strings to get him in, but what more can a father do for his son?”
Gage's hand on hers squeezed tighter. “I'm sure it'll show in his scores.” His voice was cool as he spoke.
“It's been nice seeing you, Mr. Sanchez… Daniel,” Becker interrupted, trying to keep the macho posturing from turning into a real pissing contest. “But I've got a class coming up across campus, and you have practice in a little while Gage, don't you?”
“Uh…yeah. I should still have time to walk you to class first,” he said, clearly thinking quickly on his feet.
Her smile was genuine, thanks to her relief, and she was pleased to find it reflected in his face when he saw her approval.
“Oh hey, before you go,” Daniel interjected, before they could complete their escape, “have you heard about the party next weekend? The info's been spreading online like crazy. I think it's supposed to be at a house just off campus.”
“I think I'm going to go see what they've got written up on the board,” Mr. Sanchez said, nodding to Becker. “This is one conversation I'd rather not know about. It was nice to see you, Becker. I'll let your father know you seem
to be doing well.”
“Thanks, Mr. Sanchez,” Becker forced a pleasant smile. “I'm sure Dad's expecting nothing less than a full report.”
He shook Gage's hand a final time, uttering, “Pleasure, Mr. Coulter.”
“Thank you, sir,” Gage muttered.
Daniel was more than ready for his father to leave. “So the party, are you going?”
Shit. She'd managed to avoid him on campus for weeks. “Not likely,” Becker muttered.
“It's not gonna be at one of the frats.” Gage said. “It's just a group of seniors who're renting a house together.”
“You've heard of it, then,” Daniel said.
Gage scoffed. “Of course I have.”
“It's not the kind of thing I'm usually interested in,” Becker pointed out.
“Oh. I was going to see if you wanted to go together,” Daniel said, with a smirk at Gage.
She swallowed her bile. What was this guy's problem? Why couldn't he just take no for an answer? “Ah, well. If anyone manages to drag me out to it, it'll be Gage,” she said, giving him a sweet smile.
The lopsided grin he gave her in return did something to her belly. Or perhaps a little farther south.
“I'll see you around, Daniel,” Becker said abruptly, as a means to end the encounter before things could go any further. She and Gage headed out of the café with their hands linked, her nails digging into his skin. She could feel Daniel’s eyes on her back, and she knew that as much as she wanted to smack Gage upside the head, it was more important in the moment to play things up for Daniel’s benefit. Why had she never thought of the fake boyfriend thing before to rid herself of his attention? Probably because her father would have squashed that notion like a mosquito.
She leaned into Gage's arm and nuzzled his bicep with her cheek. But that might not be enough to drive the point home. “Thanks for that,” she whispered. “And I hope you don't mind.” She gave him a halting tug on his arm, stopping him in his tracks and drawing his attention down to her. Before he could say anything, and before she could rethink it, she rose on her toes, reached for the front of his shirt, and pulled him down so she could kiss him.