Dirty Curve

by Meagan Brandy

She takes a small sip of her sweet tea and then starts at line one. She reads to me without pause and I watch her all the while. The way she tucks her hair every couple paragraphs and how she smiles to herself when she gets to a part that interests her. The way her voice elevates the slightest bit when she feels she’s

come to a concept of importance and wants to make sure I’m engaged. Both her feet are now bare and perched on the chair. Her knees pressed against the table’s edge, and she has the book laying across her thighs. With every turn of the page, her head tips from left to right, and every five minutes or so, she blindly dips her chin to pull the straw between her lips from the glass she has tucked to her chest. Only when a loud slurping sound is made does she lose focus. Her eyes fly up to mine, embarrassed, and right back down to the now empty glass. A low chuckle leaves me, and I sit back in my chair, quickly sneaking a look at the clock. “I’m not sure we have time for another glass, but I bet Franny will get you one to go?” “Of course, I will!”

“Does to me too. There’re not a lot of places I can go around here and take my hat off, so to speak.” I glance her way briefly, and her lips twitch. “That makes me sound like a bitch?” Meyer laughs, shaking her head. “No, it doesn’t.” I grin and head back to campus. I’m about to strike up a random conversation in an effort to keep her talking, but then Meyer grabs her tea from the cup holder and opens up my book once more. She picks up where she left off, so I slow my speed and take the long way home.

I’m not so sure it was a good thing to see this side of Tobias Cruz, but I’m also not so sure I regret it.

Like Coach said, the girls are waiting at the end of the tunnel and waste no time coming up to introduce themselves. I look out at the now empty field with a smirk, but as I do, the parking lot lights kick on in the distance, and an instant frown takes over. It’s getting dark out. I’m a good five hundred miles from Oceanside, and there’s a girl that might be walking alone in the dark tonight. Fuck.

I break from the giggly group, grab my phone from my pocket, and scroll to Meyer’s number, but my fingers pause there. I narrow my eyes, looking out at the people piling into their cars and heading off. She has no clue I followed her home those few nights, so what the hell am I supposed to say? Yesterday, I didn’t trip on it because I heard her tell Franny her friend was coming over, so I knew she wouldn’t be working. Once I heard that, I forgot to remember I’d be gone today, too.

Fully expecting her to ignore it, as she usually does, I walk toward the group, but then the line stops ringing, and a soft little ‘hello’ fills my ear. I stop in my tracks, satisfaction curling my lips. “What’s this fool grinning at?” Neo teases, tossing his hat in the air and catching it on his head in an attempt to impress. I flip him off and spin away. “Tobias?” “Hi.” “Hi.” Her tone is teasing. “Uh, I’m in Arizona.” What the fuck? No shit, I’m in Arizona. She knows this.

“We won.” I nod. “Not that there was a chance we wouldn’t but ...” “Of course not.” She laughs quietly. “But congratulations anyway. Jonny had the game on at the center today. Nice pitching.” “Jonny, huh?” I frown. That pink polo wearing bastard. She hesitates a moment, and there’s some shuffling around in the background. “Did you, I mean, is there something you need? I’m with someone, so I only have—” “Like a student?” “What?”

“You’re tutoring someone right now?” “For the next couple hours, yeah.” “Who?” Bro, chill. What the fuck is wrong with you? I lick my lips. “You know what, it’s all good. I had a question but I can, uh, figure it out.” “Are you sure?” she asks. “My student’s in line for a book rental. I have maybe five minutes before he gets back ...” He. Of course, it’s a he. They’re probably all he’s and she’s a she and fuck, dude. Shut up, you whiny ass bitch. “If I call you later, you free?” “I don’t usually pay attention to my phone when I’m at home, but since you’re telling me now, I can at least keep it near and try.” There, she said home. That’s all I was after. Right?

“Tobias motherfucking Cruz, get your ass over here. These girls are thirsty, if you know what I mean!” Gavin shouts from behind me. I shake my head, flipping him off. “I’ll let you go,” she says, a hint of hesitation in her tone. “Is your dude back?” “He’s not.” “Then why hang up?” “Cruz!” another asshole screams, louder than the rest. “Bye, Tobias.” I frown at the sky. “Later, Tutor Girl.” I hope you have the opposite of fun. I know I will.

“You ain’t been hooking up lately.” I shrug. “Not in the mood.” “You not being in the mood is like meeting a chef who hates cooking. Not so sure such a thing exists.” The elevator doors open and we step off on the ninth floor, cutting a left toward our block of rooms. “So, what’s really going on?” he asks. “I want her.” “Who, my volleyball captain?” I scoff a laugh. “Nah, man.” With a sigh, I swing my eyes to his. “My fucking tutor.” His brows jump, amusement quickly following. “Well, there it the fuck it is, son. I called that shit when she stunned your ass by walking away from you without giving you the time of day.”

take it she’s yet to bite?” “It’s like she’s got no teeth.” His head tugs back in shock. “Damn, maybe she has a man?” I drop onto the edge of the bed, shaking my head. “You asked ...” he guesses. I look to him, and he pushes off the wall, his eyes narrowing. “You pussy-whipped fucker.” His grin is slow. “You asked her.” “You have to be getting pussy to be pussy-whipped, asshole.”

“That’s debatable, my friend.” He laughs. “So, which is it? She free or taken?” Running my tongue along my teeth, I let out a heaving breath and turn to face him once more. “She definitely ain’t free.”

Tutor Girl doesn’t have a man, but she ain’t free. She’s mine. Or she will be. She just doesn’t know it yet.

My eyes fly to hers, narrowing, and a hint of a grin finds her lush lips. I want to bite them. “You’re onto something, Tutor Girl. I watch twenty-minutes of game film a day.” She pops both brows. “And we study for two hours almost every single day. You got this. Name the first three.” Squaring my shoulders, I send the ball flying, and it smacks the little square made of red tape perfectly. I bend to pick up another, frowning when I find the bucket empty, but then Meyer steps up. She’s got a paper in one hand, a ball in the other. She tosses it up, catching it on its way back down without taking her eyes off me, a small smirk on her lips. “Name three and it’s yours.” I turn my body so I’m fully facing hers and she squares her shoulders in triumph, as if I couldn’t simply walk my ass over to the net and refill the bucket with the thirty balls waiting there, like I have once already.

She tips her pretty little head as she tosses the thing in the air, but I’m quick, and dart my hand out to catch it. Meyer jerks forward with a little growl, playfully shoving at my chest, but before she can pull back, I grip her hand with my own. I expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t. She stares at the contact, so I lace my fingers with hers, and she allows it, coming closer when I give a little tug. Her eyes find mine and stay there. They stay there until she whips her other hand out, snagging the ball from mine.

“So easily distracted, Mr. Cruz.” “Girl, I’m telling you, you could breathe near me and I’d be fucking distracted.” She blushes, squashing her lips to the side to fight away her grin. “Unless you’re on the field, right?” I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a laugh. “There’s one way to find out ...” She rolls her eyes and a few minutes later, we’re packing up our things. Later that night, I’m lying in bed, and I can’t stop thinking about her, but it’s not that same frustrated feeling like before. At least not tonight. I saw the way she smiled at me today, it was different. I’m not sure in what way, but it was. So, tonight, I’m gonna sleep good, ‘cause I know without a fucking doubt that Tutor Girl is going to bed thinking about me, too.

Bianca lets herself in, a bag hanging from each hand. “Okay, I’ve got two subs, one ham, one turkey, both split right down the middle and every candy the mini mart had to offer.” “Any chance you brought a bottle of, god, anything?” “Shut up, are you done breastfeeding?!” She practically beams. I laugh, but my shoulders fall, and my intuitive best friend drops the bags where she stands, hopping up onto the bed in the next second.

“Talk to me.” “I have a problem.” Worry frames her eyes, and she nods. “Okay, what kind of problem?” I squinch my nose. “A tall, tan, tasty-looking one...” Bianca blinks, and then she blinks again. And then she laughs, falling back onto her back and reaching out to yank me with her. “Oh my god, you little bitch, you scared me!”

“He’s exactly what meets the eye on the outside: gorgeous, charming, and magnetic. Athletic. But it’s ... it’s like there’s this hard shell of expectation he has to fill because his exterior packaging says it’s the one he belongs in, like the epitome of stereotypes.” “That’s shitty but makes sense.” “Yeah.” I nod. “But the filling inside the shell isn’t made up of the same things.” I pause, thinking of his cocky ways, and fight a smile. “Okay, some of that’s on the inside too, but it’s the honest parts. He is cocky, but that’s because he’s good at what he does and he’s unapologetic about it. It’s oddly endearing.” I chuckle. “And he is charming, but it comes from how he communicates. He’s direct, straightforward, and unafraid to let on to what he’s thinking.” My palm falls to my stomach when an airy sensation begins to swirl. “It’s strange though, because you’d think someone who is all those things would be able to brush off what others say, and it seems like he does as far as the school papers and campus jerks go, but I can tell when I’ve insulted him.” “Hold up, what?”

She pops a brow. “So, what the hell are you talking about?” I throw my arm over my face with a low groan. “I know, I don’t know, but I swear I do. I can sense it. Doubt he’d ever admit it, but I know he gets his feelings hurt sometimes, and his defense mechanism is to pretend he doesn’t, and that’s when his inner Sour Patch comes out. It’s like he feels categorized or snubbed or something and so he pops off, acting the way he thinks he’s being treated.”

“Meyer.” I look to her. “If he feels ‘snubbed’ ... that means he likes you and he just wants you to like him back. Right now, it seems like he’s not so sure.” I swallow. “Yeah. I know.” That much is obvious too. At first, it was in his eyes when he’d look at me, now, it’s in his touch, and he always finds a way to touch me. A brush of his arm or hand, a grab of the wrist. Or like today, when he threaded his fingers into mine and pulled me a little closer. Today, I let him. Today, I forgot how complicated the situation truly is. “But you do

“You like him, right? That’s the tall, tanned, tasty-looking problem here?” I do. But I can’t, shouldn’t. It’s selfish and wrong and a disaster waiting to happen. I could never be honest with him, not now. Bianca senses my thoughts, and a knowing, saddened smile spreads across her lips. “M—” Tears fill my eyes and I look to the ceiling, willing them to go away. The situation is complicate...

I can’t simply cut the cord, walk away before it gets worse, because I’m contracted to spend six-to-eight hours a week with the man, ten when exams are close. So basically, I’m screwed.

I’m no fool, I know it’s going to get worse, deeper, just like I know it’s up to me to keep the barrier between us in place. It won’t be easy, but it’s more than necessary. I can’t fall for Tobias Cruz, a little voice in the back of my head whispers, but a wiser, louder one replies with, you already have.

“Or you low-key stalk me.” She laughs, shouldering past me with a lively glint in her brown eyes, and she doesn’t stop until she’s on the mound. “Okay, Playboy. School me.” With a smirk too deep to hide, I grab the ball from the dirt and head her way, keenly aware that our mandated time together ended exactly seventeen minutes ago. And the girl’s still here.

She laughs, dropping her head back, and my eyes fly to the slender length of her neck. I bet it’s smooth and soft, a spot that fires her up. Right then, her hand lifts, gently encasing it as if to rub the heat beaming down from above away. She’s facing forward right as I reach her, and as her eyes lock on mine, the ball falls from my hand.

With a small frown, she bends to pick it up, and as she stands, I can’t stop myself, I dart a hand out, catch her around the wrist. She tenses, her gaze snapping to mine, and while she swallows, she doesn’t pull away. So, I tug her into me. I’m talking right on me. Her copper eyes are wide and unsure, a little uneasy but a little more intrigued. I shift a little closer and she chases a choppy breath. Gliding my thumb a little higher on her wrist, I press right over her pounding pulse, not missing how it begins to knock a little harder. Her fingers tighten around the ball and heat builds in my gut. I want to feel her tighten around me. Tense under me. Moan for me. She swallows. “I should go.” “I should kiss you.” “Tobias—” “I might fucking kiss you.” “Please don’t,” she begs, and now all I can think about is driving her mad, fucking wild, until she begs for something else. My eyes flick to her lips, my tongue coming out to drag along my own. “Make me a promise and I won’t.” Her feet shuffle nervously. “What kind of promise?” “That when you want to kiss me, you will.” “I ...” She looks down, but I use my knuckle to bring her focus right back. “Promise me, and if you never want to, it won’t matter.” But you’ll want to. I’m thinking you already do ...

She nibbles on her lower lip and my chest rumbles against hers. I want to pull it in my mouth, apologize to it for the torture she’s inflicting, and then cause some of my own. I want to taste her so fucking bad. Meyer’s features pull, and her answer is nothing more t...

when she tries and fails to change the subject with her next breath. “You know, if you pass this exam and your midterm next week, you’ll have your eighty percent in this class.” “Kinda want the girl more.” She cuts her eyes away, chastising herself. “You were supposed to be an asshole.” My chuckle is heady, and my palm slides into her hair. “Did I disappoint?” Reluctantly, she smiles up at me, but it holds that hint of heavy she always seems to carry, and I know. “You have to go.” “Yeah,” she murmurs, her fingers twitching beneath mine. “I really do.” I hate it and it takes a fuck-ton of strength, but I force my hand to fall from hers and take a single step away. “See you on Thursday, Tutor Girl.” At first, she hesitates, as i...

pack up as she does, trying to ignore how she leaves without another word, but just as I get the last ball in the bucket, she calls out. “You didn’t, by the way.” My head lifts, finding her just outside the fence, maybe thirty feet away. I rest my arm on the net, nodding my chin. “Didn’t what, Tutor Girl?” “Disappoint.” Her smile is hidden, but her words are strong. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”...

had to cancel on Meyer tonight due to a mandatory film session with the team, and our next session isn’t until Sunday. I could wait, but I’d rather not, so instead of hiding out in the dark tonight and silently making sure she gets home safe, I decide the burger joint is where I’ll be eating dinner.

At first, she freezes, but slowly, a smile spreads along her lips and she walks over with a single brow raised. “Table for one or is your date coming?” “Nah, she couldn’t make it.” I shrug, bringing myself closer to her. “She’s working at this little burger joint in town.”

“What can I get you to drink, Mr. Cruz?” “What time you get off, Miss ... wait. What’s your last name?” Her eyes dart to the coffeepot she’s reaching for and lifts it up from its base. “It’s Sanders and I get off at ten.” She heads down the aisle, refilling an elderly couple’s glasses before moving to the opposite side of the room. Well okay then. Looks like I’m here until ten. Deciding to wait in the truck after I get my order, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, she’s knocking on the window.

“You didn’t need to wait for me.” She looks toward the road and back. “Get in.” I turn the key over. It takes her a moment, but then she comes around the truck and slips inside. “You knew I worked here, didn’t you?” “I might have seen you in your apron one night.” “Seen me ... where?” “Headed home.” “Headed home…” She trails off with suspicion. “Tobias?” At the stop sign, I meet her big brown, uneasy eyes. “I went back to the bar a couple times, not once with the intention of stepping foot inside it.” Her chest rises with a full breath. “Why?” she wonders, so I tell her.

“I don’t like the idea of you being out at night alone, so I made sure you weren’t.” “Lots of people walk home alone at night.” “I don’t want you to be one of them.”

“I’ll pick you up every night I can, if you let me.” A grin slips over me. “And if you don’t, it’ll be like the first night, and I’ll follow you anyway.”

“So, you know where I live then?” “Nope.” I shake my head and in my peripheral, I spot hers turn toward me. “Once you were safe and with the campus security, I went home.” After I answer her question, I realize something, so I put her mind at ease. “If you don’t want me to know where you live, I can take you to campus, or you can walk from my house, which is just across the street on the far-left end.”

“You can stop here,” she says, unbuckling her seat belt and turning to me. “Thank you, for tonight and for ... the nights I didn’t know you were there.” “You mean I didn’t just win a gold medal in the art of stalker mode?” A laugh spurts from her and the strain in her shoulders disappears.

“No, you didn’t. Bronze maybe, but you know.” She lifts a shoulder, a small smirk playing at her lips. “Hey now. I haven’t been reduced to bronze in years. Okay, maybe I should have followed you home.” Her smile is wide, but she turns away, looking back with only her eyes. “Seriously, thanks. Sometimes it is kind of scar—” Meyer’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing out the front window, and then in a rush, throws the door open and jumps from the cab. “Hey, what—?!” I shout, quickly rushing out after her. What the hell? She pretty much runs forward. “It’s okay, let me get you settled, okay?” someone says, half their body sticking out an old green Camry. “Bianca!” Meyer shouts. “What happened?” she panics.

“Oh, thank god!” She steps from the door. “I think Bay’s mimi is in your bag, and I can’t for the life of me find the spare. I was going to run out and get one.” “Oh shit.” Meyer’s words are stressed, but her body seems to relax with Bianca’s answer, and she starts digging through her purse, pulling out and holding up something in her palm. Bianca throws her hands up in a praising motion as Meyer slips past her, poking her head into the back seat. That’s when Bianca spots me, a shrill shriek leaving her. “What the fuck!” I chuckle, lifting my hat from my head and flipping it backward. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

At my voice, Meyer freezes, half her body stuck inside the vehicle, as if she forgot I was here, or didn’t realize I got out of the truck when she did. Slowly, the knee on the back seat extends, her left foot planting back on the ground with her right and she comes out of the car, a ball of blanket in her hands. Her eyes flick to mine and she steps from under the carport, back into the light. A small cry fills the air, but then Meyer begins to bounce her arms, and the soft sound fades away. Not a ball of blanket, a baby. “You should go.” Meyer nods, turning toward what must be her apartment, but she pauses, cautiously facing me once more when my feet shuffle a little closer. Meyer keeps her straining eyes on mine as I approach and they stay there when I reach her, but mine fall to the fluffy white blanket. I peek through the small opening near her chest to find a teeny, tiny little thing. A baby girl, if the pink pacifier tucked into her mouth tells me anything. The little one’s eyes are closed and the blanket’s pulled tight, so I can’t see much else, so I step back, looking to her mama. “I’ll see you Sunday?” She stares a long moment, sort of frozen and unsure, but then she gives a small nod. So, I turn, walk back to my truck, and as I climb inside, it all clicks. This is why Meyer runs on fumes most of the time. She’s not out partying or doing whatever the fuck it is most of us here do. The girl’s out working herself to death with assholes like me all afternoon, and at t...

not, she’s got her own classes to manage and taking care of a baby. Her bab...

She’s structured, organized, and on top of her tutor game. It’s no wonder she tries to keep her mornings for herself. Here I am, the dick who basically threatened her into adding me anytime I’ve needed her to by using my tightknit relationship with her boss.

Honestly, I’m with her more than I need to be because I fucking like to be. I want to be. But she’s with me out of obligation. In my driveway, I pull my phone from the cup holder and bring up her name. I type out a text canceling the Sunday session I just confirmed, but before I can hit send, I remember what my coach told me. She makes more when she works with me, so maybe if I fall behind again, just by a little, I can get more hours with her. Maybe then she can breathe a bit easier, take fewer shifts at her second job, and have more time at home with her baby. I delete the text and send a new one.

And then I stare at my phone, an unexpected anxiousness in my gut as I wait for her response.

My ribs constrict instantly, the text notification that came through not ten minutes after Tobias pulled away last night still sitting on my screen. I knew when it beeped it would be him, since the only other person who would call me that late was still here when it came through, and sure enough, a half hour later when I dared to peek, it was his name I found. I didn’t open it.

She smiles, laughs, and rolls over with ease. Her back is getting stronger by the day, so she’ll be sitting up with a little help in no time. I hope I’m with her when she does.

My eyes slide to my phone once more, a frown taking over. I pick it up, hovering over the notification. My lungs fill with a heavy inhale, and as I read what the man had to say, the pit in my stomach deepens. I think I expected him to cancel on me. I might have thought he’d question me. One thing is for sure, though.

I most definitely didn’t anticipate his text would hold an offer, asking if I wanted to have our Sunday session over Zoom so I could stay home with my little, as he called her. He must have felt compelled to suggest a change in the routine we have going and that’s not fair to him. So, I politely decline, and only after I hit send do I remember it’s only five in the morning. Huffing, I let my phone fall beside me.