BY the third day of the tutoring session, a rhythm had formed.Sessions had become structured, disciplined and predictable. At least… on the surface.Zayne leaned back slightly in his chair, pen tapping lightly against his notebook as Ms. Lesley moved across the board, explaining a concept for what felt like the third time. Her handwriting was neat and precise, just like everything else about her.She was nothing but controlled, careful and untouchable. And yet… his eyes didn’t stay on the board for long.They drifted, and to her.To the way she carried herself, every movement deliberate, every step measured. The soft sway of her hips when she walked. The way she paused ever so slightly when she knew— knew— he was looking.Because she did know. And he had caught it. Not once, not twice, several times now. Those quick and sharp glances, almost accidental, but not quite.She would look at him like she was studying him, like he was just another subject to analyze, but then there was some
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