"Isn't that what grad school is for?" he asks, scooting just a little closer to me and reaching up with long fingers to pull my sleeve down my shoulder. He leans in and presses a warm kiss to my already heated skin. "Just be a doctor, and you'll be going to school for most of your life anyway." He gives a lazy cat's grin, and scoots a little closer, putting his right arm on the left side of my body so that he’s partially covering my upper half.
"I like the academic environment," I say, struggling to control my breathing. With the way Creed is laying, my natural instinct is to lean up into him, wrap an arm around his neck, and kiss him. "I want to go to Bornstead, and if things work out, I'd like to teach there one day, too. I've already started working on my application." Creed raises his eyebrows, and looks at me like I'm crazy.
"You've already started working on it?" he asks incredulously, some of that lazy nonchalance disappearing for a minute. "Is it that time already?"
"It is if you don't have a legacy bonus," I joke, and I can't help myself, reaching up a hand to stroke Creed's smooth jawline the way Tristan did in the library. As soon as that thought enters my mind, a fresh surge of heat flushes through me, and I catch my breath. "And if you desperately need scholarship money in order to be able to go there."
Creed closes his eyes, and leans in toward me, putting his face in the crook between my neck and shoulder. When he breathes, air flutters against my pulse, light as a butterfly kiss.
"My mom says that if I don't pull my grades up and get into college, then she's kicking me out and cutting me off." He sounds almost ashamed as he admits this to me, nuzzling deeper against me.
"I don't think Kathleen would ever do that to you," I admit, because as much as she's upset by Creed's actions, she loves him too much to see him suffer.
"You don't know her like I do." Creed lifts his head to look at me, putting our lips insanely close together. I can feel his breath fluttering against my mouth, and all I want to do is kiss him. Some big, bad bully he's turning out to be. He looks so soft and angelic in the gold light from the bedside lamp. "She's smart, and driven…" Creed wrinkles his brows slightly. "Kind of like you, I guess. She worked hard for everything she has, and she expects Miranda and me to do the same. I can't disappoint her."
And there it is, the real crux of the situation. Creed is desperate to be a part of his family, whether he wants to admit it or not. He's terrified of disappointing his mother.
"Hey." I cup the side of his face in gentle hands and pull him just a little bit closer, so that when I talk, he can feel my words against his lips. "You've got me as a tutor," I say with a little smile. "so really, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I'll do whatever it takes to whip you into shape. Let's start with this: where do you want to go to college?"
Creed looks up at me, his gaze shifting from the lazy, insouciant mask he wears to the deep burning of bedroom eyes, affectionate and lustful both at the same time.
"Why do you care so much about what happens to me?" he asks, shifting so that he isn't hovering above me anymore. No, it's more like he's lying on top of me now. I can feel him in all the right places, tucked between my thighs and looking devilishly handsome in this charcoal gray tuxedo. "I treated you like absolute shit. So why? Why? What is it about me that you actually like? Most girls like the money, or the prestige of dating an Idol, or maybe they just want to fuck me. But it's never about anything else. Except …" He puts both palms down flat on the bed and hoists himself up, so that he's looking straight down at me. “… with you.”
"You're fiercely protective of your sister," I start, breathing hard, feeling my heart begin to race out of control. I'm suddenly dizzy, and I know that if I were standing up, my knees would give out. "And you love your parents so much, there's agony in your eyes when you talk about disappointing your mom." I take a deep breath as Creed sits up on his knees and begins to loosen his tie, using languid, easy motions as he watches me with an intensity that I've only seen him use during fights. But it's not an angry intensity, or a violent one: it’s determination. "Most of all, I like that you have the guts to admit when you've made a mistake. A lot of people don't ever learn that lesson, not once in their entire lives."
