The Fundamental Theory of Us by Alyse Raines Read Free Book Online

Rachel asked me to do her a favor.”
    One dark brow rose. “And that involved…?” He looked her leather Tinkerbell outfit over once more.
    A prickly blush broke out every inch of her bare skin. “Not my idea. I don’t—dress like this. Ever.”
    “Well, you look good.” He cleared his throat and glanced at the floor. The muscles in his chest tightened. “I’m just diving into this Fundamentals stuff. Well, drowning, more like it.” He smiled, reaching one arm behind him to scratch his neck.
    Go inside. Lock the door. Hide. Sawyer squeezed her eyes tight, filled and emptied her lungs. When she opened her eyes, she saw Andrew watching her, a curious yet guarded shadow in his gaze.
    “Do you need some help?”
    He let his arm fall back to his side. The muscles flexed and relaxed, making his tattoos dance. “Only if you’re not busy.”
    They had an agreement—and Sawyer always kept her word, when she could. “Give me a couple minutes?” She motioned to the leather, and regretted it when Andrew’s eyes darkened.
    “Sure. I’ll be here.” He jerked his head toward his apartment.
    Sawyer nodded, turned on her heels, opened her door, and slipped inside. For a few seconds, she leaned on the back of the door, giving her pulse a chance to calm down. The wood felt cool against her legs. She stripped out of the jacket, pulled the zipper on the dress, and let it pool around her feet, then stood in her bra and panties and heels, absorbing the chill. Five minutes with Andrew and her core temperature went way past critical.
    After a minute, she straightened and gathered the expensive leather, and carried it to her closet, which was mostly empty. Everything she wore could be folded. What was the point of buying nice things when she didn’t want to be noticed? No one paid attention to the girl in oversized thrift-store clothes. No one except Andrew. And now he’d seen her like this. Sawyer caught her reflection in the closet door mirror. Through her white cotton bra, she saw the four long pink marks on her chest.
    Sawyer turned away from the mirror. She hung the dress and jacket up, removed her heels and placed them on the closet floor. In her dresser, she pulled out a baggy sweater and a pair of jeans. She removed the makeup Rachel had painstakingly applied and she ran a brush through her hair, remembering that Andrew’s place didn’t have too much light. Besides, they’d be in school mode. Unlike most people she knew, studying to Sawyer was serious business, not an excuse to … do what other people seemed to do.
    She left her apartment and knocked on Andrew’s door, keeping her gaze glued to the floor. She didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes when he saw her this time—now that he knew what she could look like when she made an effort. Because no amount of hell was worth taking that risk.

Chapter Eight
     
    With Sawyer’s help, Andrew ratcheted up his knowledge of Fundamentals of Probability. Every evening for the past week, she came over and they studied. During one of their study sessions, Miranda showed up, but seeing Sawyer there again must have made an impression on her. She hadn’t bothered him since.
    That happened four days ago.
    Today was Saturday again, early morning, and he and Rosie were out on the trail they carved out in the woods. He brought a few items along in the hopes of kicking up his training once more. His arms felt like they were getting softer. The trouble with building so much muscle and not keeping up with previous regimes meant a risk of muscle turning to fat. It wouldn’t happen overnight, however, complacency wasn’t in his vocabulary—until the leg.
    Andrew hammered the final nail into a tree branch where he planned on hanging the last speed bag, and then his makeshift course was complete. No weapons. He didn’t need to fire anything to get the same effect. Climbing, punching targets, crawling, and jumping were enough for now. Especially since he could barely