Chapter 4

~Ava~

I was halfway through a bowl of cereal Tuesday morning when Mom dropped the bomb.

“Oh honey, guess who’s coming over tonight to help you with that government midterm you’re so stressed about?”

I froze, milk dripping off my spoon. “If you say it's any Professor I’m moving to Canada.”

She laughed like I was joking. “Elias is an old friend of Richard’s! He called yesterday, said you looked overwhelmed in class, offered to tutor you privately. Isn’t that sweet?”

Sweet. Right. Like a root canal with no anesthesia made of broken glass.

“Mom, no. Seriously. I’ll study with Riley. Or YouTube. Or I’ll just fail. Failing is fine. I look great in community college.”

Richard walked in, newspaper under his arm, coffee in hand. “Nonsense. Elias is the best. He tutored Jax senior year when he was flunking everything. Kid aced the final.”

Jax, who was currently shirtless at the fridge stealing my orange juice straight from the carton, snorted. “Yeah, because he scared the shit out of me. Dude’s intense.”

Thank you, Jax. Back me up.

Mom waved us both off. “It’s settled. You two will be here alone, nice and quiet. Richard and I have that charity auction downtown. We’ll be gone by six, back after midnight. Plenty of time for you to catch up.”

“Why are you both always in Charity auctions damn.” 

Alone. With Elias Calder. In this house.

I think my soul left my body.

“Mom. Please. I swear I’m not being dramatic…”

“You’re being dramatic,” she sang, already walking out. “Wear something nice, he’s bringing dinner!”

The door shut. Silence.

Jax closed the fridge, looked at me, orange juice on his upper lip like a milk mustache for psychopaths. “You okay? You look like you’re about to puke.”

“I might.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes narrowing. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Everything. Literally everything.

I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again. “He’s just… really strict. Like scary strict. I don’t wanna be alone with him.”

Jax stared at me for a long second, something dark flickering behind his eyes. “I don’t like it either. I’ll cancel my plans, stay home.”

My heart did a stupid flip. “You don’t have to….”

“I said I’ll stay.”

And for one tiny second I almost liked him.

Then Riley texted me a picture of her flipping off the camera with the caption: your stepbrother just liked my thirst trap from 2019. we’re getting married tomorrow.

Never mind. I hate everyone.

Six-oh-five p.m. and the parents were gone. House was dead quiet except for my heartbeat trying to punch through my ribs.

Doorbell rang.

I considered climbing out the window.

Jax beat me to the door, opened it, and there stood Professor Elias Calder in a black button-down, sleeves rolled up, holding a pizza box like this was normal. Like he hadn’t had me bent over his desk forty-eight hours ago.

“Ava,” he said, smiling like a fucking wolf. “Good to see you.”

Jax folded his arms. “Thought you were tutoring, not feeding her junk.”

Elias didn’t even blink. “Brain food. She’ll need the energy.”

I wanted to die.

Jax’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, jaw tightening. “Shit. Damien’s truck broke down, needs me to pick him up before the shop closes. I gotta go.”

No. No no no.

I grabbed his sleeve without thinking. “You said you’d stay.

He looked down at my hand, then at me, something soft flashing across his face for half a second. “I’ll be two hours max. Lock the doors. Scream if he tries anything.”

Elias chuckled. “I’m a professional, Jax.”

“Yeah,” Jax muttered Jax. “That’s what worries me.”

He grabbed his keys, shot me one last look that said be careful, and left.

Door shut. Silence again.

Elias turned the lock. Click.

I was gonna throw up.

He set the pizza on the kitchen island, took off his watch, laid it down real slow. “Dining room table. Books out. Now.”

I hated how fast I obeyed.

We sat across from each other like this was legit. He opened my textbook, started talking about separation of powers, voice calm and professor-y. I tried to focus. I really did.

But then his shoe nudged mine under the table.

I jerked my leg away.

He kept talking, pen tapping the page, but his foot found my ankle again, slid up my calf slow enough to make me squirm.

“Ava. Eyes up here.”

I glared at him. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” All innocent.

I kicked his shin. He didn’t even flinch, just smiled and kept talking about checks and balances while his toes traced higher, under my skirt now, brushing my bare knee.

I slammed my legs shut. Heat flooded me anyway.

He flipped a page. “Read the highlighted section out loud.”

I tried. My voice cracked on the first sentence.

He leaned forward. “Again. Clearer.”

His foot pushed between mine, forcing my thighs apart just enough that cool air hit the damp spot on my panties. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

I shifted, pressed my hand between my legs trying to stop the throbbing. Didn’t help. Made it worse.

He noticed. Of course he did.

“Problem?” he asked, voice low.

I flipped him off under the table.

He laughed quietly, kept teaching, foot sliding higher, big toe now tracing the edge of my underwear through the skirt. I was dripping. I could feel it.

Twenty minutes of this torture. Me reading paragraphs in a shaky voice, him nodding like a normal teacher while he basically fingered me with his foot under the table.

Finally I snapped.

I slammed the book shut. “Why aren’t you just fucking me already?”

The room went dead quiet.

He leaned back, folded his arms, looked at me like I was a naughty kid who just swore in church.

“What did I tell you last time, Ava?”

I swallowed. “That you’re gonna make me beg.”

“Exactly.” He picked up his pen again, tapped the page. “Open the book. Chapter twelve. Start at the top.”

I hated him. I hated him so much I could feel it in my teeth.

I opened the book.

His foot pressed harder, right against my clit through the fabric.

I gasped, hips jerking forward on their own.

He didn’t even look up from the page. “Read.”

I tried. Couldn’t. Kept stuttering, rocking against his foot because I couldn’t stop myself. Hand clamped over my mouth so I wouldn’t moan out loud.

He finally pulled away, sat back, checked his watch. “That’s enough for tonight.”

Wait, what?

I stared at him, chest heaving, thighs shaking. “You’re leaving?”

“Mm-hmm.” He closed the textbook, stood up, tucked his shirt in like he hadn’t just ruined my entire soul. “You did well. We'll meet again soon. Maybe then you’ll be ready to ask nicely.”

I was gonna murder him.

He walked to the door, paused. “Oh, and Ava?”

I glared through tears of pure rage.

“Touch yourself tonight and I’ll know. You cum, I’ll know that too. Wait for me.”

He left.

Door shut.

I sat there for ten full minutes, legs still spread, skirt still rucked up, so wet it had soaked through to the chair.

Then I screamed into a couch pillow until my throat was raw.

When Jax got home an hour later I was curled on the couch pretending to watch N*****x, acting like I wasn’t dying inside.

He dropped his keys, looked at me, really looked.

“You okay?”

I laughed. It came out hysterical. “Peachy.”

He sat down, close but not touching. “He didn’t….”

“No,” I cut him off. “He didn’t fuck me. He just made me wish he had. For two hours. While pretending to teach me about Congress.”

Jax stared at me. Then he started laughing, deep and pissed off and kind of broken.

“Jesus Christ, Ava.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, hugging a pillow to my chest. “Jesus Christ.”

He reached over, tugged the pillow away, pulled me into his side without asking. I let him.

We sat there in silence for a minute.

Then he said, voice rough, “Thursday I’m not leaving. I don’t give a fuck who needs bailing out.”

I didn’t argue.

I just leaned into him and tried not to cry from how messed up everything already was.

And how much worse it was definitely about to get.