All Chapters of Private Lessons With The Bad Boy Bully: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Here’s the thing nobody actually tells you about tutoring someone who hates you.It’s actually kind of fun.Let me explain. Obviously, I don’t mean the normal sort of fun. It’s nothing like Thursday afternoon study group with Coach Ellis, where we both had a great time doing crossword puzzles together and eating pizza before heading home.This was different. I was having the time of my life explaining something I genuinely loved to someone who was trying really hard to pretend he didn’t care and failing at it.Jace hadn’t told me to stop effing talking once. Not once in thirty minutes, which was a win to be honest.Although, he also hadn’t cooperated once either, and every time I slid his assessment paper across the table to him, he would slide it straight back with a glare. So I’d slide it across again, and he’d send it right back, huffing with annoyance. We’d done this so many times it had stopped being infuriating and become kind of fun, almost like a tennis match.But he was lis

“I think I should go, give you guys room to talk.” I took Martin’s assessment folder and went to the study to look through it., leaving mother and son to discuss in private.It was the furthest room from the stairs, but that didn’t help at all.Their voices came through the walls anyway, muffled but unmistakable, rising and falling in the rhythm of an argument that had been had many times before and would be had again.Mrs Dawson’s patient, careful voice came first as she tried to reason with her oldest son. “He called the house phone, Jace. He just wants to talk to you. I think he’s really serious this time..”“What the hell does any of that have to do with me?’“He’s your father..”“So I’ve been told.”“He asks about you every time he travels abroad for…”“Mom.” He paused, his voice lowering. “Drop it.”She didn’t drop it. I could have told her that was a mistake, that her son was a bully and a tyrant and there was no reasoning with him, but it wasn’t any of my business.So instead

Lena's POVThe ceiling was the first thing I saw when I came to.Then my mother's blurry face came into focus slowly."Lena. Lena, baby, open your eyes. Open your eyes for me, sweetheart!”I was on the floor. No, the bed, someone had moved me to the bed and laid me down on my back.The room was very bright and a little loud with the two worried women talking hurriedly over each other in a panic, while my head swam every time I tried to move it."I'm okay," I said, my voice hoarse and tired."Don't you dare say you're okay. I don’t believe it for a second.” My mother's hands were on my face, my shoulders, moving like she couldn't decide where to put them. Her eyes were red. She'd been crying, or was about to, and she was holding it back by force now that I was awake so I wouldn’t have to see it. "You fainted, Lena, I found you lying on the floor unresponsive. This has never happened to you before! Not even as a little girl!”"I just got a little dizzy, that’s all.""But—""Mom—""Don'

I quickly went over my memory of the last hour in my mind, trying to remember if there was anything I could've said to reveal the situation with Lena.I was sure I hadn't said anything. If this was some kind of trick, then the best thing to do would be to keep my mouth shut and admit to nothing.Apparently, it worked, because after a long stare down, she finally gave up."I don't knowwwwww," she groaned. "Why don't you just tell me?!"She shifted closer, her hand on my arm, and her voice dropped back into that low, seductive purr. "Tell me what she's like. What does she do that I can't do better?"Her mouth found the hinge of my jaw, kissing a hot, slow trail across. "I can love you better than she can. Whatever it is, I can be better. Just tell me what you need and I'll…""Enough." I stood up, done with her desperate attempt to throw herself at me. Lena would've had more pride, some self-respect at least."Jace…""Keep the jacket." I picked up my car keys from the coffee table. "I'll

The church was fuller than I expected.That was the first thing that got me. Walking through those doors with my mother's arm through mine and seeing how many people had come. Some faces I half recognised and half that I didn't. The room was full of people who had known my father in chapters of his life that existed long before I was ever born.His old foreman from the warehouse, a barrel-chested man named Douglas who shook my hand with both of his and couldn't get a single word out. Three women from the church who had known Dad since he was seventeen took turns holding my mother's hands and crying quietly into tissues, leaving trays full of food on the table.His brother Gerald from Atlanta sat in the second row, glaring at everyone in the room with Dad's exact eyes in a face that was maybe twenty years older, I hadn’t seen him since I was a child and he’d always given me the chills even back then.There was something very, very off about him, so I could only glance at him for a sec