Chapter 10 (Landon)
I hike my laptop bag up on one shoulder, my guitar case on the other, and balance my coffee and notebook in my hand as I sprint up the steps to the campus library. I have a tutoring session with one of my regulars at 12:15 and my next at 1:30.
I was hoping to get some music time in between tutoring sessions today, but since one of them is studying for their summer school final, and the other is an introductory meeting and I'm not sure just how much this new student will need, I know it probably won't happen.
The new student—some guy named Asher Holden—is a jock, and although I haven't had a chance to go over his academic record and see what classes he struggles with the most, it's been my experience that jocks' never want to put in the time and work it takes to succeed. They expect things to be handed to them all because they can throw a few balls around.
I groan because I'm going to have my hands full with yet another privileged ass who will expect me to do all the work for him.
I shouldn't even be taking on another student right now, especially since I'll be the TA in not one but two classes this semester, in addition to my own course load. But when the Dean called me into her office and all but begged me to take this case as she called it—I caved.
Dean Crane is someone I look up to and have the utmost respect for. Not only was she the one who suggested that I consider being a double major when I confided in her about what I really wanted to do—and my conundrum regarding my parents'—who outright refused to pay for any classes that didn't have to do with me earning my teaching degree. She also offered me a job tutoring at the student center. In addition to finding a way for me to obtain grant money to help pay for some of my music classes.
She's been a godsend to me and she's worked hard to get where she is. She's taken this university which was once in shambles, and turned it around. She truly wants each and every student on campus to succeed. And her husband, who happens to be the coach of the football team, is a good guy too. So when he tracked me down right after the meeting with her and told me how important it was to him personally for me to tutor his new quarterback—so important he's taking money out of the football budget in order for me to privately tutor him all year—I really couldn't turn it down.
I don't know what the big deal about this Asher guy is, but if he has both Cranes’ going crazy, he must be something special.
I glance at my watch and curse. My regular student—Nina—usually shows up early for her sessions, so I know chances are she's already grabbed a table in the stacks and is waiting for me.
I open the door to the library and despite it still being summer, it's more packed than usual. The university offers summer classes to the local students around here and I know most of them are taking their finals this week.
I glance at my watch again and pause. I have another three minutes before the session starts. Maybe I should call her.
Not only did she end things with you, I remind myself. She won't even give you the courtesy of returning your texts or phone calls.
I hover over the button that highlights her name. It's not like she'll pick up when I call again. My heart tugs—because I'm coming to the realization that maybe it's just best that I let her go.
If she wanted me...she'd pick up her phone.
If she wanted me...she wouldn't have ended things.
If she wanted me...she wouldn't have...
“Jesus, shit!” I scream when some massive force plows into me, causing coffee to spill down my shirt.
“Damn, that sucks,” some deep voice says, and I don't mistake the hint of amusement in his tone. “You should probably watch where you're going there, bud.”
I should probably watch where I'm going? I wasn't even the one walking.
I look up and come face to face with some guy who's about two inches taller and 35 lbs. bigger than I am. He smirks as he continues to stare down at me from underneath some hipster beanie hat.
Seriously, who the fuck wears a beanie in the summer?
I open my mouth to tell him off, but he's gone in a flash. But not before I hear him call out, “Your glasses are on the ground if you're looking for them.”
Son of a bitch. I bend down and pick up my glasses, which thankfully aren't broken.
After I clean up the best that I can in the bathroom, I make a beeline for our usual table. It's kind of hidden since it's near a non-popular section of books, therefore not many people frequent here. Nina has a hard time concentrating, so she likes to be away from people when she studies, which is fine by me. I prefer to be away from people too.
I look up at the clock on the wall when I reach our table but don't see her. I'm only a few minutes late for our session and she wouldn't leave the library without texting me first.
Setting my laptop and books on the table, I decide to shoot her a text while I sit and wait for her.
When another 10 minutes have passed, I send her another text. I know she's worried about her final, so I'm a little concerned as to why she's still not here.
I take out my notes for our session and lay them on the table in front of me...and that's when I hear it.
At first, I'm sure I must be mistaken. But when I hear frantic and muffled whispers followed by some low and deep groan...I know I'm not.
I don't consider myself a buzzkill, but I am a responsible human being.
And a curious one.
I drum my fingers on the table, debating my next move. My curiosity seems to get the best of me, because the next thing I know I'm on my feet and moving toward the muffled sounds which are no doubt coming from the back of the library.
The sounds become clearer with every bookshelf I seem to pass.
I hear a female voice giggle and it's immediately followed by a slurping and sucking sound. It's such a distinct sound that not only is there no mistaking what's going on behind that last bookshelf...it sends a rush of blood straight to my own dick.
I swallow hard and remind myself that I'm well respected here on campus. Not only am I the head of the student center, I'm a freaking TA.
I instruct my cock to stop being such a pervert, and roll my shoulders back, getting ready to put my authoritative face on.
There's another low groan followed by, “That's it. Just like that.” Which is soon accompanied by, “Oh, yeah. Take those titties out for me and play with them.”
I pause briefly, caught between right and wrong. I don't want to ruin their time together, but they shouldn't be doing this in a library where people are working their asses off studying for finals.
It's distracting.
I stand behind the shelf that's one over from where they are and remove a few books, deciding to get a better look. I'm probably going to hell for this, but oh well. They only have themselves to blame for doing this in public where anyone can see.
An alarming thought hits me just then. I really have no idea who's hooking up and there's no way to tell until I do in fact see them for myself. For all I know it could be Mrs. Jones, the librarian and Mr. Brown, the mail guy on the other side. Everyone knows they make eyes at one another whenever they're in the same room.
I shudder—they're both in their 70's. I quickly put the books back, because I no longer have any desire to witness the show anymore.
“That's it, baby,” the deep voice groans and I pause, listening intently. “Don't forget to share with your friend. She looks like she wants a taste too.”
The sucking and slurping intensifies and two things hit me at that moment.
One—it's definitely not Mrs. Jones. And two—there's three people getting it on.
“Yeah, both of you keep doing that,” the deep voice instructs. “Let's see which one of you will get the prize.”
Prize? Really?
I roll my eyes. Does that shit actually work?
I can't believe a self-respecting woman—let alone two of them—like hearing stuff like that.
Your loser is showing, Landon. These girls are clearly enjoying themselves.
I back away from the bookshelf and take another step toward them, my feet moving on their own accord and my curiosity coming to a peak.
The guy groans again, much louder this time. Annoyance and maybe even bitterness—thanks to my own current dating situation—barrel into me.
Before I can stop myself, I'm rounding the corner.
And coming face to face with the asshole wearing the Beanie from before.
I don't even have time to react, all I can do is take in the scene before me.
Two girls—one of them Nina—are on their knees before him, pleasuring him. Neither of them see me since their backs are to me and they're obviously very busy.
But that's not what snags my attention. It's the fact that Beanie guy is looking right at me.
The corners of his lips turn up and he smirks. “You want some of this?”
I open my mouth in shock—which in retrospect was probably a bad idea—and he bites his lip and grunts.
He grips the back of both their heads and thrusts his hips into one of their mouths. There's more slurping, hell even gagging, but I'm too transfixed to move, for two reasons.
One—if I look down I'll get an eyeful of his dick being passed between them.
And two—the confidence bordering on downright cockiness oozing from this guy has me envious.
Most people would be embarrassed at being discovered in this position. Or at the very least, fear the possible consequences of getting caught.
But not this guy. If anything, it's like me watching only seems to heighten things for him.
He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he rests his head against the bookshelf. His eyes connect with mine again and his mouth parts, lost in a world of pleasure as his grip in their hair tightens.
And even though I'm not the one coming in Nina's mouth, it almost feels like it because his orgasm is so potent it damn near borders on compelling.
I clear my throat, feeling both uncomfortable for watching this, and pissed that he's here enjoying himself after being such a jerk to me.
I also can't help but feel incredibly wrong about this whole thing, given I'm a tutor and a TA. And even though this specific scenario isn't listed in the rules, I'm positive it's frowned upon and that I should be reprimanding them, at the very least.
“Landon,” Nina all but screeches as she and her friend get up off the floor. “Oh my god. Please don't report me.”
Beanie guy looks confused for a moment before he turns pale, yanks up his pants, and mutters, “Shit.”
I guess the clarity of the situation just hit him. I could report them all, but I'm not going to. I might be uptight when it comes to certain things and more responsible than other people, but I'm not that stringent.
Nina starts blubbering and her friend, who I've only met a few times before, joins her.
And somehow, I'm the one feeling like the asshole in this equation now.
“Please,” Nina says, sidling up to me. “I'll do anything you want, Landon. Just don't tell my parents.”
At this, Beanie guy's eyes widen and his expression turns panicked. Guess he didn't realize these girls were still in high school.
Lucky for him, Nina at least, is legal. She just hasn't graduated yet due to her poor grades and the fact that she never attends class, hence why her parents hired me to tutor her this summer.
“You're still in high school?” He puts his hands on his hips and blows out a breath, the terror more than evident across his face.
Inside I'm smiling. Karma is a bitch and this guy deserves it.
“Well, yeah,” Nina's friend says and he looks like he's a heartbeat away from passing out. Until she adds, “But don't worry, we're both 18.”
He sucks in air and slowly the color finds his cheeks again.
Both girls turn to face me and I back away, letting them know I'm not interested in their offer. I'm already well antiquated with Nina's antics and propositions. I've never fallen for them in the past and I'm sure as hell not about to now.
“Go home. We'll reschedule for tomorrow morning, Nina.” The girls all but run past me. “I want a thousand-word essay and pages 50-68 completed in your math textbook.”
Nina pops a hand on her hip. “You've got to be kidding me.”
I point to my face. “Do I look like I'm kidding?”
With a roll of her eyes and a flip of the bird, she walks away.
“I'd rather just suck his dick,” her friend whispers behind me and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
The youth of America.
I don't realize I've said that last statement out loud until Beanie guy snorts. “Dude, you're like the youngest grandpa out there. What's your secret?”
I glare at him. “Not propositioning high school girls' for starters.”
His eyes narrow. “Whoa, first off—I had no idea they were still in high school. And secondly—they propositioned me.”
“Yeah, right,” I scoff.
I'm secure with myself enough to admit that the guy is good looking—in the all American and conventional kind of way, dimples included. That said, girls don't just go around offering guys blow jobs for no good reason. No matter how troubled they might be.
His mouth tightens. “I'm telling you, they offered, man. We started talking and as soon as I told them—” His words drift off suddenly. He's the one who appears uncomfortable now.
“Told them what?”
He shuffles his feet and looks down at the ground. “I'm Asher Holden.”
Fucking figures. “The new quarterback?”
He nods and looks back up at me. Then he raises an eyebrow, almost like he was expecting me to follow my last statement up with something else.
“Not a big sports fan I gather?” he questions after another minute goes by.
“Not particularly.”
Something like relief flashes across his face. “Look, I'm sorry for—” He pauses, there's the slightest hint of a grin on his lips. “I don't know, getting my rocks off at your sacred library with two consenting 18-year-old's. But I'd appreciate you not making a bigger deal out of this than it has to be.”
I lean against the bookshelf that's directly across from him. “Well when you put it like that, sure no problem.”
If he can't detect the sarcasm in my tone, he's a bigger idiot than I give him credit for.
“Please don't tell my coach.” He swallows thickly and for a moment, he drops the cocky facade and I see a glimpse of vulnerability. “I'm kind of trying to start over again and get my shit together. I can't afford to be thrown off the team. And while I don't think he'll make a big deal out of this, I'm not looking to give him a reason to doubt me so early on.”
I feel myself cave. I had every intention of reporting his ass to the school, just to get back at him for earlier. But now I'm realizing this guy might not be such an asshole. Or rather, he deserves the chance to prove me wrong about him. Plus, I'm stuck tutoring him for the rest of the year. And all things aside, it was just a hookup.
“Fine. Your secret is safe with me.”
He breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. For a minute, I thought I was going to have to offer you the same thing they did.”
A laugh escapes my throat as I make my way back to the table and he follows me. “Wow, offering to suck another guy's dick?” I inwardly shudder. “Guess my silence really is important to you seeing as you'll resort to such drastic measures.”
He laughs nervously and looks around. “Right. Look, uh—do you mind if I run to the bathroom before we start?”
I hike a thumb behind me. “After you reach the librarian's desk it's on your left-hand side.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles before he jets off.
I'm not sure why, but his demeanor completely changed during the last 30 seconds of our conversation. Almost like I personally offended him in some way.
I'm flipping through my notes when I recall his words from before. “You want some of this?”
I had thought he meant, 'Did I want to partake in the activity and whip my dick out.' But what if what he really meant was, 'Did I want to suck his—'
I shake my head, feeling like an idiot. There's no way he meant that, and what the hell does it say about me that I would even think that in the first place?
He's clearly into chicks'. He had not one, but two back there. And hell, even if he was into dude's—which I'm willing to bet almost anything isn't the case, it shouldn't weird me out. I'm all for equal rights and have a few gay friends.
Quite frankly, I'm more concerned about the past that this guy seems to be running from.
And if he's so serious about sports, and he must be, given how scared he was about possibly being kicked off the team—why in the world would he come to Woodside? We're not exactly known for our sports.
I pull my laptop out, hoping a quick google search might tell me where he transferred from and give me some background information.
A moment later, I'm finding out way more about him than I ever intended to.