Read Online Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance) by Abigail Graham - Free Book Online Page B

You should get a rubdown. I'm sure all the girls are lining up around the block to get their hands on you."
    I sigh again. I got tired of this game in my first year. I never told her I wasn't interested, mostly because all my other options for an advisor are worse. She at least listens to me. I couldn't get anyone else to sign off on my changing my major from education to history and literature—a double course load that will keep me in college for an extra year.
    "So what's up?"
    "I've been looking over your grades." She makes a little tsk-tsk sound. "You're pulling a seventy-four average for your math course for this semester. Geometry."
    "I'll pull it up."
    "I talked to your coach," she says, a little purr in her voice. "This is a big deal, Jason. You can't just blow it off and say you'll bring your grade up. You also flunked your first media aesthetics exam. I went over the syllabus with the instructor, and it's pretty clear you need to pull at least a B+ on the rest of the tests or you're not going to pass that class either. Those two could drag your average down enough to get your football scholarship pulled."
    I grunt. "I said I'll bring them up."
    "I believe you'll try, but I want to be sure. We both know how important that scholarship is, Jason. I'd hate to lose you. You've been one of my best students. I feel like we have a connection."
    Actually, I try to avoid her classes lately, but I'm not telling her that.
    "What if I got a tutor? Would that help?"
    She smiles a wolfish smile, toying with a pencil in her hands. Stroking it a little with her thumb and forefinger.
    "I could help you. Just an informal study session. I have a gift for math, you know. Geometry is my jam."
    I almost feel sorry for her. Her wedding band reminds me that I feel a little sorrier for her husband, especially since I hear rumors that she doesn't discriminate in choosing students to flatter with her feminine charms, and more than one has taken her up on it.
    "I know it's very hard," she says, "but we can handle it together. I'm a tough tutor. I'll ride you hard, and when you're finished you'll be drained, but trust me, you'll be satisfied. I'll help you with cylinders and you'll be able to grasp spheres, and then you can calculate the hypotenuse of a triangle all over my face."
    "What?"
    She blinks. "What did I say?"
    "A triangle on your face?"
    "No I didn't. I think this Thursday would work. We can make it a regular thing. We'll meet up at a restaurant, chat, study, I'll buy you dinner, then maybe we can swing by my place for dessert. My husband works Thursday nights, so he won't get in the way."
    "Uh, thanks, but I have practice on Thursdays. Listen, I'll find a tutor. If I can't grab somebody from class, the Academic Assistance Office can set me up with somebody."
    "Oh pishposh. They'll drop some sophomore tart in your lap that will spend your whole study session staring at your crotch. I'm a woman; I know how to handle a guy like you."
    "Um," I say.
    "I mean tutor a guy like you. In math."
    "Right, I'll be going now."
    I stand, give her a nod, and shoulder my bag. I stride confidently out of her office and avoid breaking into a run until I'm well of sight and earshot.
    My first class is, unfortunately, with her, so I don't have much of a reprieve. I hurry down to the lecture hall anyway, hoping I can avoid her, and see Ana.
    She's in the same class. Because I took my first two semesters as an education major, I have to take a bunch of freshman classes sprinkled throughout my remaining years of study. This is one of those, a two hundred level course in American history.
    Anastasia is already seated in the front row.
    The little half desk on her seat is unfolded, and she has her laptop on it and open, the cursor blinking on an empty page. I crane forward to look at her.
    Then I look back and see her two-man goon squad staring me down. I give the big one a wave. Each is big enough to play a heavy defense position. The bigger of the two has