You tapped your fingers impatiently on the picnic table, fidgeting around with a sigh. He was late. Again. You had been tutoring Rafe in your intro to statistics class for a few weeks now, and he was never on time. You wondered if he thought you weren’t worthy of being on time for. You were at the University on a full scholarship, and he was Rafe Cameron. He seemed to think that the world revolved around him and you should be only too happy to waste your morning waiting for him.

The first time you two had met up, he’d thrown money at you. Far more than you’d ever seen from your tutoring job. And said he’d keep it coming if you just did the assignments for him. Like you were so desperate for cash that you would just leave your morals at the door. When you’d repeatedly turned the money down, he’d finally reluctantly opened his book, but his failed negotiations had taken up most of that session.

And since then, he’d been showing up later and later. You were about at your limit of dealing with him. He was arrogant, conceited and rude. And while you’d normally have no problem telling him where he could shove his attitude, you didn’t need the headache that would come from it. You needed this job. You were good at this job. And when you weren’t stuck with entitled dickheads like Rafe, you enjoyed the job.

“Coffee, princess” you look up as Rafe sets a large cup of coffee down in front of you. Still wearing a scowl, you reluctantly pick it up and take a sip. White chocolate mocha, your favourite. When had he noticed that?

Rafe slides down on the bench across from you, smirking as he watches you drink the coffee. The man looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world, and to be fair, he probably doesn’t.

“Don’t say I never gave you anything” he quips, nudging your leg with his knee. He was pulling out the charm offensive. That flirtatious tone and smirk usually seemed to get him whatever he wanted. But he wasn’t usually dealing with you. You were pissed off that he was wasting your time and determined not to be one of the girls who fell for his charms.

“You’re late. Again. If you don’t start showing up on time you aren’t going to get anything out of these sessions.” You glare at him, ignoring his flirty words. “And actually I’m starting to think you’d be better served by a different tutor.”

Rafe snaps his gaze back to yours when you issue the threat, and his brow furrows. His expression quickly switches back to his usual smirk and he lightly tugs at a strand of your hair.

“Nope, princess. I heard you’re the best. And I want the best”