I’m a fucking prick. It’s the truth, but not all of it. Sure, I need the money. But not bad enough to have signed up for her crazy sex tutor scheme if I didn’t want to. That’s my dirty little secret.

Part of me wants to be here with her.

But I’m sure as fuck not going to tell her that.

The hurt in her chocolate eyes makes me feel worse than if I’d kicked a puppy. I’ve got to give her something to keep her from taking a bath with her toaster tonight.

“Besides, for some reason I find your particular brand of weird irresistible.” That does the trick.

A shy smile twists up her lips. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

I can’t tell if she’s playing the game or asking me out. That’s a hell of a one-eighty. Time to let her down gently with a little reminder of who I am and what we are not.

“It’s a bye week. That means there’ll be a party at our house. Lots of drinks, lots of chicks, lots of hookups. You know, college at its finest.” I answer with my most devious smile, eager to push her away.

“Oh.” She sounds deflated. “Green light.”

“I’d invite you to swing by…” I try to sound unenthusiastic. “But I’m sure house parties aren’t your thing.” I don’t want to hurt her, but I need to be clear that we aren’t dating. Some lines have blurred tonight and they need to be redrawn. In Sharpie.

“They’re not.” She’s curt. I guess she got the message. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t begging for an invite. I was just playing your stupid game. Which I won, by the way.” She crosses her arms.

She’s so far away suddenly. She built an invisible wall between us. Part of me is relieved. And part of me is pissed at myself. We’re both quiet for the last few blocks of the drive. Mercifully, we don’t hit any more red lights.

“We’re here.” I pull in to her apartment complex. “Should I come up?”

“I’m done for tonight,” she answers.

I’m not ready to let her go. I don’t want to leave it like this. After a quick internal debate, I decide to hop out of the truck.

“Thanks,” she says as I help her out of the cab. She turns to walk away without saying good night, but I don’t let her just yet. We need boundaries, but I don’t want this distance.

“Thanks for a weird night,” I tease. She rolls her eyes, but I ignore it. Instead, I pull her against me, wrapping one arm firmly around her tiny waist. I plant a passionate good-night kiss on her, snaking my tongue through her parted lips and claiming her mouth. I remind her exactly what it is we’re doing together. I don’t stop until she gives in to the lust, digging her fingers into my biceps and pulling me closer with a soft moan.

My eyes locked with her, I tell her, “I’m not here to make you feel normal. I want to make you feel like the sexual goddess I know you are.” She doesn’t respond. She’s speechless. There’s a first. “Good night, Goose.”