PART FOUR

Alejandro’s POV

I watched him — the so-called “best tutor” my mother could find — standing there in my doorway, fidgeting like he was debating whether to run or faint.

I let my eyes drift over him slowly, from the wrinkled shirt clinging to his narrow shoulders to the loose jeans hanging a little too low on his hips.

He looked like he hadn’t slept properly in days. Yet, somehow, he was… cute.

I knew him.

I’d seen him around campus — always sitting in the front row, hand up every five minutes, glasses perched on his nose like he thought the sun rose and set for textbooks.

I’d never cared to learn his name until tonight.

“Hey,” he stammered, his voice soft, awkward.

“I’m Mateo.”

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms.

“Yeah, you said that before.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

Something about the way his ears turned pink made me want to smile, but I caught myself.

This wasn’t supposed to be cute. This was supposed to be irritating — another of my mother’s desperate attempts to fix me.

To be the best.

Because of this damn competition that father has set for us.

I was competing for the company against Diego.

I would have gone out of the race if not for mamá.

Diego could have the company and run it to the ground for all I care.

But… damn.

Up close, he had these long lashes that brushed his cheeks when he looked down, and lips that curved in this unintentional pout.

My gaze flicked to his mouth for a second too long, and I felt a stupid urge to bite that cupid’s bow.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“No,” I muttered out loud, shaking my head.

Mateo tilted his head.

“No?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” he asked, his brows pulling together.

“This.” I gestured between us.

“Sorry, but my mother wasted your time. I don’t need a tutor.”

He folded his arms, surprising me.

“Well, your mother didn’t tell me that, and she’s the one who hired me, not you.”

I almost laughed.

“Well, I’m telling you now — I don’t need any damn tutor. You can as well just leave.”

Mateo didn’t flinch. He just looked at me steadily, his tone suddenly firmer.

“Do you want to fail, then?”

I froze.

“What?”

He swallowed, but didn’t back down.

“I mean… if you can barely get a B, what are you doing in the medical field?”

My jaw tightened.

“That’s none of your business.”

“I think it is,” he said quietly but confidently.

“If you’re going to take over your father’s company, you should at least be able to pass your classes.”

I saw red.

He didn't know what he was fucking about.

In two long strides, I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer until our faces were inches apart.

“You know nothing about me. Absolutely nothing.”

And then, for a split second, everything stopped.

His eyes — wide, dark, and steady — locked with mine.

I could feel his breath on my lips.

There was a pulse between us, heavy and confusing and charged.

I could smell the faint scent of soap and cheap coffee on his skin.

My throat went dry.

Then I realised how close we were and let go quickly, shoving him back.

“Don’t test me,” I growled.

Mateo straightened his shirt and muttered,

“Perfect. I’ve been meaning to add taming wild animals to my resume.”

I blinked.

“Did you just call me a wild animal?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Well, you’ve been growling since I got here.”

Before I could stop it, a laugh slipped out of me.

Mateo puffed out his cheeks and mimicked a growl, and it came out so ridiculous that I actually grinned.

“Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hands.

“You win, pup.”

“Pup?” He looked scandalised.

“That’s my nickname for you. You should be glad.”

“I’m not a pup.”

I smirked. “You did growl like one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

I chuckled under my breath.

This was… new. No one ever talked to me like that — not without fear or fake admiration.

“Alright,” he said, snapping back to business.

“I’ll need your number so I can send the tutoring schedule.”

I tilted my head, stepping closer until there was barely any space between us.

“Oh? So you want my number, nerd boy?”

He gulped and looked away, his throat moving as he swallowed.

My gaze lingered on his neck — the urge to trace my fingers over it caught me off guard.

I clenched my fists and stretched my hand out instead.

He blinked in confusion. “What?”

“If you want my number, don’t you have a phone?”

“Oh—right.” He fumbled into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a phone that had survived World War 2.

The screen was cracked, the case taped together, and half the buttons looked like they didn’t even work.

I wrinkled my nose. “Seriously?”

He frowned. “It works fine.”

This was what he was using for school?

What was he? Poor or what?

I sighed, took it from him, and punched in my number. Then I called myself.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

“There you go, pup.”

He glared at me. “Stop calling me that.”

“Too late. It’s official now.”

He muttered something under his breath in Spanish, and I couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Now shoo,” I said, waving him toward the door.

“I’ve got better things to do than talk about your ancient phone.”

He turned at the doorway.

“I’ll text you the tutoring schedule. Don’t forget to send me your course list.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving lazily.

Before I closed the door, he added,

“Don’t forget, Alejandro.”

I stared at him for a second longer than necessary.

“Sure, pup.” Then I shut the door.

I leaned against it and let out a quiet laugh, scrolling through my phone. His number blinked on the screen.

I saved it as Nerd Pup.

“Let’s see how long you last,” I murmured, a grin tugging at my lips.

“I’ll frustrate you until you quit.”

Still smiling, I headed to the kitchen to make a smoothie.

It was late, but after this... hot encounter, I needed a cold drink.

I was halfway through blending strawberries when I saw Diego leaning against the counter, watching me.

I felt like slapping away that stupid smirk.

“What is it now?” I asked flatly.

He stirred the knife block idly with one finger.

“I heard Mama had to hire a tutor for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “News travels fast.”

Diego grinned. “So the great Alejandro Castillo can’t handle his own studies?”

I smirked right back.

“Unlike you, Diego, I know when to accept help. But I can’t say the same for you. Tell me—who’s going to teach you how to talk to people?”

His face darkened.

“Seriously,” I went on, leaning casually against the counter.

“You might ace your grades, but the way you creep people out? Not great CEO material.”

His hand snapped to the knife block.

Before I could react, he yanked one out — a sharp kitchen knife gleaming under the light — and pointed it right at me.

I raised both hands slowly.

“Whoa. Easy there, tiger.”

His jaw flexed, and for a moment, I swore I saw something truly unhinged in his eyes.

Then, with a hissed curse, he slammed the knife down and stormed out.

I let out a low whistle, shaking my head.

“Psycho,” I muttered to myself, pouring the smoothie into a glass.

“And I thought I had issues.”

No one was normal in the Castillo bloodline.

I sipped slowly, still half-smiling. But my mind kept circling back — not to Diego, not to the competition.

To Mateo.

And to the way my heart had skipped when I looked at him.