****
By the fourth lesson, I was a mess before I even knocked on his door.
I’d spent the whole week thinking about him. Not the math, him. The way his arm felt against mine. The low sound of his voice when he praised me and the way my body...
****
By the fourth lesson, I was a mess before I even knocked on his door.
I’d spent the whole week thinking about him. Not the math, him. The way his arm felt against mine. The low sound of his voice when he praised me and the way my body...