This is starting to look like my salvation.

The thought of my stepbrothers makes me tune my ears to any sounds coming from the rest of the house. I haven’t heard much from them today. In fact, they’ve pretty much left me alone the past few days, ever since I announced I was going to start tutoring. They haven’t even given me a hard time about not going to the gym with them.

I wish I could relax and believe this means we’ve reached a truce of sorts. I wish I didn’t have to wonder what they’re cooking up.

The problem with using my desk chair for its intended purpose is leaving my door unprotected. It’s a risk I have to take, and within minutes of my call ending, I’m reminded why I should have gotten up sooner and wedged it under the knob when the door swings open behind me. I brace myself, gritting my teeth and hoping whatever they want, they lose interest fast.

“Look at you. The little wannabe teacher.” I find Colt reflected in my screen, slouching against the doorframe with his arms folded.

“Is that supposed to be an insult? Because yes, that is what I plan to be, eventually.”

“Life at the gym not good enough for you?”

“I think this job makes more sense,” I explain as nicely as I can. I don’t want to turn this into a fight. I can’t give him an excuse to mess with me. “It’s good experience.”

There’s no pretending I don’t know why he smiles the way he does as he pushes away from the frame, entering the room. “You want experience? I’ll give you an experience.”

My skin crawls at the implication, not to mention the fact that he’s already given me an experience I would rather not go through again. No matter how much I felt like I enjoyed it at the time. I wasn’t in my right mind. I didn’t understand what was happening. He’s managed to ruin that for me, too. I can’t even remember coming that night without feeling used and dirty.

“I mean the kind of experience that will look good on a résumé.”

He perches on the edge of my desk, overwhelming me without hardly trying. His physical presence alone is enough to make my body go stiff, ready for whatever’s coming next.

“So what? You just sit here on the computer and tell kids how to do their homework?” Could he sound more dismissive? Because organizing storage shelves is so much more important?

“Something like that.”

“And people pay you for that?”

“They pay pretty well, actually.” I can’t help but feel proud of that. “Lots of parents want to make sure their kids are at the head of the class. There’s a lot of pressure out there.”