Episode 15: Private Tutoring

The next evening, the dining room table was no longer a place for food. It was a battlefield covered in heavy calculus textbooks, high school transcripts, and drafts of my upcoming valedictorian speech.Vance had tried to retreat to the living room to avoid me, but I knew exactly how to pull his green-flag strings. I had simply sighed loudly, tossed my pencil across the room, and whined about how I was definitely going to fail the deal and lose the valedictorian crown.

Within two minutes, his protective instincts won. He marched into the dining room, pulled up a chair right next to mine, and rolled up his sleeves to tutor me.

He thought he was being a responsible guardian. He didn't realize he was walking right into a trap.

"Your opening paragraph for the speech is strong, Ren," Vance murmured, his deep voice vibrating in the quiet room as he leaned over my notebook. He pointed a finger at the page, his shoulder pressing firmly against mine. "But you need a better transition here. You're losing the audience."

"I'm not losing you, am I?" I whispered, tilting my head to look at him.

I was still wearing his oversized flannel shirt, the soft fabric sliding completely off my shoulder as I leaned closer into his personal space. Under the warm glow of the table lamp, I could see the sudden, sharp tightening of Vance’s jaw. His dark gray eyes darted to my exposed collarbone before he forced them back down to the paper.

"Focus, Ren," Vance growled softly, his voice dropping into that strict, warning register. "If you want me at that graduation, you have to actually work for it. Read the next line."

"I can't," I sighed, dropping my chin onto my crossed arms on the table, looking up at him through my eyelashes with pure, manipulative exhaustion. "My brain is completely fried. I've been studying for four hours. I don't think I can write another word."

 Vance let out a long, ragged breath, rubbing his temples. "Ren, we talked about this. No slacking off. You made a deal."

"I'm not slacking off," I purred, reaching out across the mahogany wood. My fingers gently slid over his bare wrist, my thumb tracing the warm, rapid spike of his pulse. "I'm just completely out of energy. If I'm going to finish this valedictorian draft tonight, I'm going to need a little down payment to keep me focused. A bit of motivation."

Vance went completely rigid, his gray eyes locking onto mine with absolute, suffocating intensity. "What are you talking about?"

"Just a kiss, Vance," I whispered, my voice dropping into a breathless, submissive plea that I knew would dismantle his entire moral code. "On the cheek. To prove you're actually invested in my victory. If you give it to me... I promise I'll finish the entire speech tonight."

The silence in the dining room became loud enough to hear. Vance froze, trapped in the crosshairs of his own challenge. His green-flag side wanted to reward my sudden academic drive, but his fracturing morality knew exactly how dangerous it was to touch me.

For five agonizing seconds, neither of us breathed.

Then, the green flag dropped completely.

Vance stood up so abruptly his chair screeched against the floor. He didn't lean in for my cheek. Instead, his large hand shot forward, his warm, strong fingers gripping my jawline with dominant force, tilting my head back until I was forced to look straight into the dark, feral fire burning in his eyes.

He leaned down, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the room, the familiar woody scent of his cologne enveloping my senses.

 Vance pressed his lips firmly against the very corner of my mouth—a sharp, bruising, electric touch that was entirely too deep to be innocent. My breath caught in my throat, a violent wave of pure, toxic adrenaline flooding my chest as my hands instinctively clutched the fabric of his shirt.

He held me there for one breathless second, letting me taste the exact sin he was trying so hard to avoid.

Then, he ripped himself away, his chest heaving as he let go of my jaw. He slammed his textbook shut, his gray eyes dark and completely destabilized.

"There's your motivation," Vance muttered, his voice rough and raw as he turned on his heel. "Finish the speech. And go to bed, Ren. Before I forget the rules entirely."

He stormed out of the dining room, leaving me sitting in the dark lamp light, my lips tingling and a wild, victorious laugh bubbling up in my chest.

He really thought he was the one controlling the game. But he was already on his knees.