Combust (The Wellingtons #1) (16 page)

AFTER GETTIN
G
to senior seminar late so I could slip into a seat at the back of the lecture hall, I leave the room just as quickly, hoping to make an escape. I’m just about to exit the building when I hear my name being called from behind me. Stifling a groan, I turn around and muster up a fake smile on my face as I watch her stride towards me. Sophie Birmingham—the very reason I was trying to get through the class unnoticed.

“Hey, Cohen. Late night? I saved you a seat but didn’t see you before class began.” She pauses as if expecting some explanation, but I give her none. “Right. Anyways, I was wondering if you’re going to run any study groups again this semester. You were such an amazing help in physical chemistry II, and I know that, if it weren’t for you, I’d never have completely understood the kinetics of chemical reactions.” She gives me a wink, and that stifled groan threatens to rise to the surface again.

Giving her what is my best apologetic expression, I shake my head. “Sorry, Sophie, but since I took classes last summer, I don’t have any other chemistry courses required for my degree. Senior seminar is the only thing on my schedule this semester. I told Professor Gates I’d work in the tutor center with students who specifically need general chemistry courses to graduate.”

Disappointment crosses her face and I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. “I suppose that makes sense, but I know it won’t be the same without you. You have a way of turning studying into the most memorable learning experience.” Her hand reaches out as one of her fingers traces my forearm, and I have to keep myself from pulling away from her. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to encourage her. “Well, how about a cup of coffee at my place? I haven’t heard from you since the night we celebrated your MCAT scores and I would really love to catch up.” Her tone is hopeful as she gives me a sweet smile, the same one she gave me the first time she invited me back to her place for coffee, claiming that she was still confused over her lab work.

Just like then, I know coffee isn’t what she has in mind, and instead of jumping on the chance to go home with her, I’m trying to figure out how to escape this situation without any hurt feelings. Namely, hers.

Remember how I said that female students on the pre-med track made for the best hookups because that’s all they wanted? Sophie is the exception to the rule. I just didn’t know it at the time. What started as flirting in the study group led to Sophie needing ‘extra’ one-on-one study sessions, in which we spent more time exploring our own physical chemistry than the actual textbook. Outside of the bedroom, though, we have pretty much nothing in common, so I thought we had an understanding. That is, until Christmas Eve, the night I got my MCAT scores.

After going out with a bunch of people from class, we had our own private celebration back at her place. That’s where she began talking about me going to medical school in Memphis and us having a long-distance relationship. As soon as I heard those words, I realized that we’d gotten our wires crossed and what I had thought was just two people hooking up, Sophie thought it’d eventually lead to more. When I told her that I wasn’t into the whole relationship thing, especially with going to med school, she pretended she understood and was fine to keep things the way they were, but I knew I had to end it. And like an asshole, I left that night telling her I’d call her, and three weeks later, I still haven’t.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I went home to Belle Meade and spent some time with family. I’ve only been back in Knoxville for a couple of days.” I glance down at my watch then look back up at her. “Sorry, Sophie, I can’t do coffee. I’ve gotta get to the tutor center. I’m already running late. Maybe next time. See ya around.”

I barely hear her say goodbye before I’m pushing through the doors and jogging down the steps. I’m hoping she got the point, but I’m not banking on it. Chastising myself, I vow to make sure with the next girl that we’re on the same page. Then again, I know I made it clear to her I wasn’t looking for anything. I guess she thought she could change that. I only have four more months here in Knoxville, and the last thing I want is to have anyone forming attachments or expecting for anything more, because when I go to Memphis, I’m going unattached.

As I make my way across campus to the tutor center, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see a text from Charlie.

Charlie:
Plans this weekend? A buddy of mine from Clarksville is in a band and will be playing at the Preservation Pub. His name’s Chris. He’s the lead singer. If you have time, check him out. And ask him about the time your brother groveled from his stage.

I grin at Charlie’s text because I already know the story of how Knox sang publicly to Charlie to win her back after they’d had some sort of a fight. I type out a quick response.

The Chris?! The one you went on a date with because Knox was too stubborn to ask you out? And then he turned around and let Knox bare his heart to you on stage? I definitely have to meet this guy. Thanks for the info.

I shoot Seth a text to see if he’s free this weekend and would want to go then pocket my phone as I enter the tutor center. Heading towards the counter, I give Mrs. Marsh a huge smile as she rounds the desk to give me a hug.

“Cohen Wellington, it’s been nearly a year since you’ve been in here. How is that brother of yours? I was so worried when you had to stop tutoring because of his injuries.”

Her face is full of concern as I return her hug. “He’s perfectly fine, Mrs. Marsh. He was in a coma for a few weeks but came out of it just as much of an asshole as he was before.”

She playfully slaps my shoulder. “You shouldn’t talk about your brother that way,” she scolds.

“Hey, I say that with great affection. I love that asshole. If he’d have woken up nice, we would’ve had to worry about brain damage. But seriously, he’s all good. Up and running, kicking ass like it never happened.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And I’m glad to see you back here. You know you’re one of our finest tutors. It’s going to be sad day when you graduate. Anyways, Ms. Elliott called over and placed a special request for you.”

She moves back to her computer, and I lean on the counter as she pulls up the information. “This should be an easy one for you. She’s apparently a journalism major who, like so many non-science majors, put off her required natural sciences course until her last semester before graduation. And apparently, by the time she registered, astronomy and geology were all full. So your new tutee will be taking general chemistry, lab included.”

My ears perk up when she says
she
, but then I quickly remember the disaster that was study group with Sophie.
No, Cohen. No hooking up with study partners or girls you’re tutoring.

“Now, Mrs. Marsh, just because I’m a chem major and took this course over three years ago doesn’t mean it’s going to be a piece of cake. Sometimes trying to explain things so that a non-science major gets it is actually harder than learning it itself. But, if anyone can do it, it’ll be me. Do you have her information?”

She stands up and begins looking around. “She was actually just here about ten minutes ago, but I told her you weren’t due in until one. She said she’d wait, but I don’t see her.” She continues looking until her eyes light up. “Oh, there she is. I’d spot that beautiful red hair anywhere. She’s at the table in the corner, her back turned to us.”

At the mention of beautiful red hair, my heart nearly skips a beat. I mentally ridicule myself. I have no idea why I still think every single redhead I see is going to be Andi. As I turn to see where Mrs. Marsh is pointing, I easily spot the redhead. I’m about to thank her and head towards the back table when someone across from her nods in my direction. Slowly, she turns her head, and as our eyes meet, I can’t move from my spot.

Less than twenty feet away from me is the girl I’ve been simultaneously looking for and avoiding for the past three years.

The girl whose mixtape has nearly worn out from continuous play.

The girl I’m supposed to tutor and not five minutes ago I made a vow to keep my hands off of.

Less than twenty feet away from me is Andi. For the first time in over three years, I’m face to face with her. Ruby.

CHECKING MY watch, I see that it’s only ten to one, so I might as well wait to meet my new tutor. After thanking the sweet older woman behind the counter, I look around and head to a table at the back of the room, the only one with open seating.

“I heard Professor Gates talking to Mrs. Marsh earlier and he said he’s definitely tutoring again this semester and will be in this afternoon. He was my tutor last year until he had to leave campus for a family emergency, and funny thing, my grade actually got better after he left.”

“That’s probably because you spent all your time studying him, not your course material. Not that I blame you. That boy is fine.”

I’m trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation the two girls sitting across from me are having, but when they start gushing about a super-hot tutor, I can’t help but listen. I make a silent prayer that I don’t end up with said hot guy assigned to me. The last thing I need is a pretty face as a distraction. All I want is to study and pass this course. I can worry about hot men after graduation, and with having to cover the music scene, I have a feeling I’ll run into plenty of them.

Tuning the girls out, I’m reading the syllabus for my media ethics course, thankful that it seems like it’ll be a piece of cake. If I hadn’t put off chemistry, this last semester would’ve been a breeze, especially since I did my internship last semester at the Knoxville News Sentinel.

“Oh, there he is. And he’s coming this way. Maybe I did luck out with him as a tutor again.”

When I see the girl across from me smoothing her hair and looking beyond me, I can’t help but turn around to see this aforementioned hot guy. I glance around the room until I see a tall man walking towards us. My eyes travel up his muscular body, not stopping until they reach his face.

Holy. Shit. Walking towards me, or perhaps to the other girls, is none other than Cohen Wellington, and boy, does he look good. When his eyes finally meet mine, my heart’s slamming in my chest and I watch him stop abruptly.

Our eyes are locked, neither of us moving as we take each other in for the first time in way too long. It’s like I have tunnel vision and he’s all I can see. All the other faces and voices fade away like we’re the only two in the room. He looks older, more serious than I remember, but those green eyes still make me weak in the knees. His hair is darker than before, but it’s still messy as he rocks the just-got-out-of-bed look. His face is more chiseled, harder, and he no longer holds the look of the boy next door. Gone is the goofy grin that first attracted me to him. The dimple I loved so much is in hiding, and even with the distance between us, I can see the storm of expression swirling in his eyes, yet I can’t read it. I have no idea if he’s happy to see me or if he wishes the floor would swallow him up.

He closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, his jaw clenching in the process. When he opens them, I can see that they’re clear. He lets out a deep breath, and with his eyes still locked on me, he begins to walk towards the table, not stopping until he’s directly in front of me. I have to turn in my chair so that we don’t break eye contact, but then he breaks it anyway, looking across the table at the other girls, much to my dismay.

“General chemistry?” he asks, and it’s my turn to close my eyes. His voice is deeper, smoother than I remember.

I open them to see both girls shaking their heads, disappointment etched on their features as they gather up their books to leave. Cohen returns his attention to me. He places a hand on the back of my chair, the other on the table as he leans in close. A familiar scent washes over me, and I’m strangely relieved to find that he still smells the same. His green eyes bore into mine, and I swallow hard at his nearness.

“So I guess that just leaves you,” he states. I try to scoot my chair back to put a little space between us, but his hand firmly holds the chair in place.