Tame the Beast (Ever After #1) (5 page)

Clara looked up at him with narrowed eyes as she replied, “Classes,” before turning back to the field.

She could have accepted the flirting and Olivia if that were all. She knew he was a bit of a player, but how dare he rake his eyes over her again and ignore the woman glued to his side? Adam seemed to lump Clara in with every other girl he used, and it didn’t sit well with her. He could play all the games he wanted, but Clarabelle Wright would never fall for his tricks. She was far too smart to allow her heart to be fooled by a pair of stormy eyes.

 

Chapter Five

 

Adam lounged on the sofa in his room as he flipped through the channels on the television for the third time. The ice in his whiskey melted long ago. A knock on the door pulled him from his futile search for entertainment.

“Dude, haven’t heard from you all day,” Luke said as he entered the room and took his spot in the armchair. “Had to make sure you were alive.”

“Just living the life.” Sarcasm dripped from his words.

“Uh-huh.” Spotting the drink in Adam’s hand, he asked, “Sneaking bottles out of the liquor cabinet again?”

“Don’t have to sneak when Mother’s not even home.” Then again, when was she home?

“Come on, Adam, tell me what’s up. You’ve been seriously out of it since the game, and we won.”

They might have been best friends, but there was no way Adam was going to admit his foul mood was over a woman. Not just any woman, a woman who was probably too good for him in every way. The way she spoke to him at the game still haunted him, like he had insulted her. In hindsight, he shouldn’t have shown up with Olivia after flirting all night with Clara. Women typically frowned on that sort of thing. Regardless, it wasn’t like he was serious about either of them. Hell, he wasn’t serious about anyone. So why did this one plague his mind?

“It’s nothing.” If he was honest, his bad mood had less to do with Clara and more to do with his mother.

“I don’t believe you.” Luke knew Adam well enough to tell when he was lying. He was probably the only one.

With a long exhale, Adam admitted, “My mother found out about Whitney.”

“The T.A.?”

Adam took another swig of his watered down drink. “Yep.”

“Oh come on, she can’t put the blame it all on you.”

“Oh, she didn’t. Whitney’s been transferred, and I was given an ultimatum.”

A long
pfff
escaped Luke’s mouth. “The chick’s lucky she was only transferred.”

“A transfer for her silence. Wouldn’t want to dirty the Beaumont name.”

Luke shook his head and snorted as he slumped further into the chair. “So what’s the ultimatum?”

Closing his eyes, Adam downed his drink. “I’ve been told I must behave. No more living on campus. No parties. No women. I’m to be a respectable adult and not disappoint my father.”

Luke’s jaw almost fell to the floor. “She didn’t.”

“Oh, she did,” Adam replied. It was barely a year ago that Edward Beaumont passed away from heart disease. His mother bringing up his father’s possible disappointment in what little of a man his son had become was like pouring the largest salt grains in an open wound. His mother’s voice echoed in his words. “She told me I won’t receive my inheritance when I turn twenty-one. Not unless I can show I’m a respectable young man, worthy of carrying on the Beaumont name.”

“Ouch.”

“You haven’t heard the best part. To make sure Whitney wasn’t the only assistant I was sleeping with, she took the liberty of rescheduling my classes. I’m retaking any class that had a pretty assistant.”

Luke couldn’t suppress his laughter. “I’m sorry, man. I’m not trying to sound like an ass, but I can’t say I’m shocked. You’ve been living large for how long? I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. I thought your parents were going to put their foot down after the time we threw that kegger here.”

“Oh yeah. That was a great party.”

Luke nodded. “I think the whole college showed up.”

Adam grinned at the memory. He appreciated Luke’s attempt at cheering him up, but it wasn’t going to change the hell his life had just become. His mother believed he spent far too much time drinking and whoring his way around campus the last few years. It was time to buckle down and become a real, respectable man. A man who could carry on the family name with honor and dignity. A man his father would be proud of.

“Once the semester begins tomorrow, you won’t see much of me.” Adam felt like he was cursed.

“Oh come on! Your mom just can’t hide you behind these walls.”

“She can, and she has.”

“Well, can’t we find you a tutor? One who needs to help you on … say a Saturday night?”

Adam couldn’t hide his laugh. “And where will we find this tutor?”

The fire in Luke’s eyes diminished as they faced reality. There was no way they were going to find someone who would also back them in any cover story they might need. Deacon was the smartest of the group, but his mother would see right through it. The school’s tutors were out of the question. It would be far too easy for the Dean to check in anytime. He would just have to face the fact that he couldn’t have both worlds.

“What about Clara?” Luke asked, his tone too eager for Adam’s taste.

“What about her?”

“Oh come on! Don’t you see it? We’re all friends. You said she’s here on a full scholarship.” Luke paused as if he was waiting for Adam to catch on. “She’s perfect. Work your magic on her. See if she’ll tutor you. Although frankly, you wouldn’t need a tutor if you just tried.”

“I doubt she would go for it,” Adam said, ignoring Luke’s last statement.

“And why not? As far as I can see, she is your best bet to keep your mom happy and still enjoy this year. What do you have to lose?”

Adam didn’t want to share the disgusted look Clara gave him at the opening game. “I don’t know, man.”

“Well, I do. So stop pouting and get your act back together. I need you this year. And I’m not going to spend the next months trying to cheer your mopey ass up.”

“Fine. I’ll ask her.”

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he would. One thing was for certain; he needed to show his mother he was more than the reputation that hovered over him. He just wasn’t positive Clara would willingly be his scapegoat.

* * *

The over-excited students entering Adam’s Creative Writing class made him want to hurl. Anyone glancing his way would realize he had no desire to be there. Then again, why would he be excited about a class he’d already taken?

Slowly, he found a spot towards the back of the classroom. He hated being back in the familiar seats. It was the same class that ended his reign as party king. Not that it was a hard course to take. But Adam had felt his studies were best focused elsewhere, like in social environments with a strong drink in his hand. He was great at making connections, and who better to connect with than his beautiful classmates?

Sinking into his chair, Adam sketched useless marks in his notebook. He only took the course as an easy elective, and he found it even simpler when the teacher’s assistant proved to be … well … easy. This time around, Adam didn’t even check out the prospects. He knew there would be no point. Instead, he stared at his notebook as the teacher began.

“It can entertain as well as connect personal thought and emotion and share human experiences. It can be a poem or a story or even a song. But above all, it’s a form of art,” a very familiar voice said.

Adam’s attention snapped away from his meaningless sketches. He recognized the voice in an instant. Its soft enchanting sound took center stage in his most recent fantasies.

“Well said, Ms. Wright,” the teacher replied.

Clara sat in the second row with her long brown hair pulled over her shoulder. Luke’s words about needing a tutor echoed in his mind and he found himself agreeing with his friend. He would get Clara to tutor him because he wanted to enjoy his year, not because he wanted an excuse to be around her.

The seconds seemed to slow as he waited for the class to be dismissed. He was almost bouncing in his seat as the teacher wrapped up the day’s lesson and the students shuffled out of the small lecture room. Adam stood outside the door as he waited for Clara to exit the building. He was at her side the moment she did.

“So, you’re taking Creative Writing this year?” he asked.

“I guess I am,” Clara replied. The hostility in her tone did not escape him.

He gently tugged her arm, pulling her beautiful gaze to his. “I’m sorry, did I piss you off somehow? Because if I did, I’m truly sorry. And I’d like to start over.”

Clara looked as if she was holding something back, but she finally said, “Yeah. Sure. Let’s start over.” With a million-watt smile, she held out her hand and said, “I’m Clara.”

“Adam.” He tried dazzling her with his own grin as he shook her hand. “Would you like to get some coffee with me?”

It felt like a small victory when she agreed. He guided her to the nearest coffee stand before she could change her mind. He found himself distracted by the way the wind pulled at her hair the way it had at the football game.

He tugged at her low ponytail as he asked, “Do you always wear your hair pulled back?”

“Usually,” she replied before swatting his hand away. “It’s just easier.”

“But you didn’t the night of the party,” Adam said as they found an open table.

For a moment, she looked confused. “That was Rose’s doing. Why the fascination with my hair?”

“No. I’m not.” He tried to brush it off. “Just making small talk. Actually, I need to ask you a serious question?”

“You wanted to know if you spent too much time on your own hair?”

“No!” His hand pulled at his brown strands. He didn’t think a little styling wax was too much, but her sudden comment made him feel like he overdid it. “Umm … no. I was wondering if you would be willing to tutor me?

Clara’s big brown eyes froze as her smile fell. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes. I would pay you, of course. A little extra cash couldn’t hurt, right?” Clara seemed lost for words. Adam pushed on. “I would fully compensate you for your time.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

“I don’t buy that. You seem like the type of guy who comes with a catch.”

Adam’s brow rose and his mouth stretched into a lazy smirk. “Judging me before you know me?”

“Just calling it like I see it.”

He should have acted offended, but the fiery look in Clara’s eyes caused his pants to tighten in response. He loved a woman with a little fire in her. Women like that were equally entertaining in the bedroom. The image of Clara lying on his bed with the same burning look in her eyes provoked him more.

Matching the heat in her eyes with his own, Adam said, “I thought you weren’t supposed to judge a book by its cover.”

To his disappointment, Clara only shrugged as she took another sip of her coffee. Damn. He was hoping for a much more heated response. Instead, he was the one left craving more.

“So what do you say? Be my tutor?”

Clara thought about his offer. Adam desperately wanted to know what went on behind those beautiful brown eyes. Instead of agreeing, she asked, “You need a tutor for creative writing?”

“Not exactly. I need a general tutor. You know, for all subjects. I’m dumb or anything, I just—” Adam stopped himself before he talked his way into a hole. “Look, I’ll be honest with you. My mother has kind of put me on lockdown this year. I need a tutor who will help make sure I stay ahead of the curve.”

“You don’t need a tutor. It sounds like you need an assistant.”

A sharp snort escaped his lips. He couldn’t tell her that having an assistant was what got him into this mess. Sending her the most charming smile he could muster, he asked, “So will you help me out?”

His heart rate accelerated as he waited for her answer. It was maddening not knowing what danced beyond her brown eyes as she thought about his offer.

“Fine,” she said in one long, hesitant breath, “but let’s talk more about this compensation.”

Adam grinned ear to ear. “Whatever you’d like, Teach.”

 

Chapter Six

 

Clara waltzed into her dorm room as if she were dancing on clouds. She felt like she was the queen of the campus. She could finally save up some money to help her father get out of debt. Ever since her mother Mary became ill, the family finances had fallen into a rather large hole. It did not matter how many pennies they poured into new medicines. Nothing could defeat her mother’s leukemia. With the loan sharks nipping at Gorge Wright’s ankles, Clarabelle knew her only chance to help her father was by attending Beaumont University on a full scholarship.

“And why do you look so happy?” Rose asked the moment she noticed Clara’s chipper mood.

“No reason,” Clara replied.

“Liar. Something put that huge smile on your face, and I doubt it had anything to do with class. Unless it involved a cute guy in your class. Did it? Oh please tell me it did!”

“It did, but not for the reasons you think. I swear you have such a one track mind!” Clara teased. “Adam just hired me as his tutor.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Hey, I told you it’s not what you think.”

“Uh-huh.” Rose didn’t seem convinced. With a wicked smile, she said, “I didn’t think you were the type to take sexual favors.”

Clara sent the nearest pillow flying through the air at her. “I did not! This is going to be actual cash for actual tutoring!”

“I hope so,” Rose muttered. “Just don’t let him get away with anything, okay?”

“Of course not.”

Clara knew exactly what Rose was getting at. Neither of them was happy with the reputation he made for himself, especially after the way he targeted Clara at the party. Still, Clara had no reason to be jealous towards anyone Adam brought around. The football game was merely a small slip of her character. She wasn’t the type of girl to lose her mind over a guy. When they were at the party, Clara gave into the silly notion that Adam wanted her for more than her looks. She jumped ahead to the idea of dating him long before he even showed interest in commitment, and all because she fell in love with the possibilities life opened up to her. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Other books

The Hidden World by Graham Masterton
Beckoned (The Brazil Werewolf Series) by Amanda K. Dudley-Penn
Sacred Ground by Barbara Wood
Little Red by Carl East
Let the Night Begin by Kathryn Smith
The Sisters Grimm: Book Eight: The Inside Story by Michael Buckley, Peter Ferguson