beccainbrielleâ:
  The blonde hefted the cardboard boxes through the door, unsure of their contents. The only reason sheâd had them in the first place was the âTUTORINGâ sticky note slapped to the sides of them. Allowing them to drop loudly onto the closest table, Rebecca searched for a box cutter within the tutoring offices, eyebrows arching as the male entered himself. She hadnât expected him to follow, let alone to ask about her. Slim fingers closing around a letter-opener (the best she could do), Becca turned on her heel to face both the unfamiliar patient and her cargo. âI am,â The young woman responded, dull blade sliding through the tap easily. Blue eyes glanced into the box to find what she had expected â workbooks and text books. âRebecca Wright,â She flashed a signature smile, holding out a gentle hand his way to shake. What the male said caught the tutor off guard, to say the least. Sheâd been expecting something like a pick-up line or a bribe, the actual request enticing a small tilt of her chin in surprise. âYou want me to tutor you?â A light voice fell past her lips, a smile tugging at her features. âAnd you areâŠ?â
There was a glint in the rockstarâs eyes as he watched her in all of her blonde GLORY. She fluttered into the room like a literal butterfly, yet her gaze was so angelic and serene that he was almost positive that he didnât deserve it. She was beautiful, but not the type of beauty he was used to. Most pretty faces ended up taking him to bed, whereas with Rebecca he felt like doing so would taint the glow that radiated from her. Upon being asked who he was, Jaxâs jaw dropped almost instantly. âWhat, youâve never heard of me?â He feigned offense before laughing and shaking his head. âJax Trudeau. Lead guitarist for a rockband. Anyways, the media loves to remind me of how fucked up I am, so I might as well try to make up for the education I missed.â It had only been a yearâs worth of learning that he had missed out on, but he was dragged for it constantly. âSo, youâll help?â He asked restlessly, sitting on the nearest table and looking over at her. His posture was one of nonchalance, completely embodying the arrogance and confidence of a true rockstar--not the broken boy he really was on the inside. But maybe it was good that Becca didnât know who he was; maybe then she wouldnât judge him like every other goddamn person on the planet had once they heard some version of his story.
















