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“Rose tells me you’re having trouble in math class.”
Rey Niima said nothing at first. Rose’s friend Ben Solo nowhere near fit the image in Rey’s mind of a tutor. She expected short sleeves, a bowl cut, and a t-shirt advertising either a decades-old science fiction franchise or a Rush album. She got a finely sculpted cologne ad model instead.
“That sounds so high school,” Rey finally said with a nervous laugh. “It’s calculus, which I took in high school. I thought I’d be better prepared going into this course.”
Ben Solo brought his lunch with him. He pulled out two wrapped sandwiches, both PBJs, and a juice box. Okay, maybe that reeked of geek to Rey but a boy had to eat. Ben Solo was two years ahead of Rey, attending the same university, and a math major. Rose never employed Ben as a tutor herself, but claimed his friend Hux used a similar method when Rose needed help. Rey’s bestie swore by it.
“I know Hux, though,” Rey had said. “Why can’t he tutor me?”
“He’s busy,” Rose snapped, and handed her Ben’s phone number. End of discussion. Now Rey sat here in the student union courtyard watching this gentle giant snarf down a sandwich that looked like a mini appetizer in his big hands.
“Who’s your professor?” Ben asked around a mouthful of Skippy.
“Kenobi.”
Ben nodded in presumed sympathy. Dr. Kenobi, long tenured, took an arm’s distance approach to teaching. For the first unit in Rey’s class, he composed seven equations on the auditorium chalkboard, wished everybody luck, and left. They had three weeks until the next class to present their work.
“For the record,” Rey said, “I’m not asking you to solve the problems for me. I have to learn this. Perhaps if you walk me through the first equation I can follow up on the others if I get stuck. I’m assuming he listed them according to difficulty level, easiest to hardest.”
“He didn’t.” Ben licked his fingers. “He’s an asshole that way. You got a picture of the big board?”
Rey opened her photo app and expanded her chalkboard shot to landscape. Ben asked her to text it to him. “He doesn’t always assign the same formulas year after year, though just by looking at what he gave you, I can help,” he said. When he got Rey’s text he responded with his address. “Is eight o’clock too late? I’m working tonight.”
“It’s fine.” She’d show up at two a.m. if necessary. Whatever got her through this course.
~*~
Rey knocked on Ben’s door at five after eight and greeted an oddly dressed tutor. Long sleeves on an unseasonably warm night and sweatpants. That window units cooled down Ben’s apartment–not very well, either–inspired deeper opinions of Ben Solo that Rey kept quiet. She brought her calculator, pencils and a legal pad as instructed. Inside, the modest apartment gave off a sweltering, starving grad student vibe.
“So I’ve gone over the equations Kenobi wants you to solve,” Ben told her as he directed her to the sofa. “I figure we’d begin with the easiest one, the easiest in my opinion. I broke it down into four parts which we will walk through together. Sound good?”
Rey sat opposite Ben, who manspread on one end of the couch. “Of course.” She looked around for any evidence of math work on his end and saw nothing but a sparsely decorated apartment. “Should I have printed out the problems?”
“No worries. We’re only working on the first one tonight, and I have it written down.”
Ben rolled up one of his sleeves to show her the first part of the equation written in black on the underside of his forearm. Rey boggled at the sight, not so much for the neatness of the writing but for the way the muscle flexed every time Ben touched a variable and explained the process.
“Any questions so far?”
How was this man able to speak so soberly when he had math written on his body? Rey blinked; despite the absurdity of the presentation, she understood it. “No,” she said, and glanced at her notes. “I’m ready for the second part.”
She guessed correctly. Part two of the problem was scrawled on his other arm. Here the equation got trickier and Rey asked for clarification at one point. This resulted in Ben pushing up that sleeve a bit farther to expose his bicep, where he scribbled a few auxiliary notes.
“You know, it’s okay to…” Rey was about to say use paper, but if that meant Ben restoring his sleeves she wasn’t certain she’d welcome that.
Ben waited for her to finish. “Uh, tilt it this way?” she asked, and leaned forward to better see the writing. She finished this section of the problem and anticipated where to find part three. The sweatpants looked rather loose, and she thought at first he might have equations written on the insides of his thighs.
She watched Ben ruck up his shirt to expose his abs. There, rippled by his hard muscle but still legible, was part three. This, she admitted to herself, proved challenging. She had to focus on calculus yet her mind counted out the man’s pack. Six…no, eight. Kriff.
“I really have to say something here.” Rey cut in halfway through Ben’s explanation of the equation. “What was the point of drawing all over your body? Is this some kind of flirt?”
“No.” Ben sounded as though he meant that. “I suck at flirting, actually. I’d like to, but I don’t even try anymore because it gets misinterpreted as…well…” He pointed to his face. “How am I looking to you right now?”
Rey pursed her lips for a second. “Like you’re about the run the Ironman,” she said. “Either that, or destroy Mars.”
“This is my flirting face. Now you see why.”
Poor guy. Rey relaxed at that and shifted her position on the couch. “Very well, but it doesn’t explain the writing on the, er,” she gestured to his bare tummy, “wall.”
“Oh.” Ben looked down at himself. “Hux said he tried this as an icebreaker with his last tutee,” he said. “She was really nervous about her exam, and he said seeing the equations laid out like this made her feel less intimidated.”
Rey considered the tactic. “You mean Rose,” she said. “Hux was Rose’s math tutor and now they’re dating.”
“They are?”
“For a math expert you seem a bit slow in other subjects.” Rey arched an eyebrow. “Hux was flirting.”
Ben looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled. “I suppose that adds up.”
Kriff. The bastard knew all along what he was doing. Rey kept a straight face. “I’m going to hit you with a pillow now.”
“If you knock me out we won’t get to the last part of the equation,” Ben said, his voice teasing.
“Did you write it on your ass?” Rey asked.
Ben shook his head. “I save that for 400-level course tutoring,” he said. “You think you’ll still need help by then?”
“Yes.” Rey crawled forward to straddle Ben’s lap. The stomach equation smeared with the contact. “You intend to keep your pants on for other students you’re tutoring?”
“What other students?”