by Lauren Rowe
My brain is screaming at me to flee. And yet, I can’t move a muscle.
Oh, lord. Seeing Tyler today, I’m feeling every bit as attracted to him as I did the other night. More so, actually. As he moves so effortlessly toward us in the glorious California sunshine, his muscles flexing and bulging, he’s more Superman than Loki. And I must admit I’ve always had a thing for Superman.
“Hey,” Tyler says to Dimitri, coming to a stand next to me.
Without consciously meaning to do it, I quickly take two lurching steps backward until I’m standing two feet behind Tyler’s broad shoulder.
“Hey, Tyler,” Dimitri says. “What a coincidence. I got your text and, now, voila.” He motions over Tyler’s shoulder toward me, but Tyler doesn’t turn around. To the contrary, Tyler remains focused on Dimitri’s face like a sniper peering through his scope.
“Did you hear back from her roommate yet?” Tyler asks urgently.
My skin pricks. Am I the “her” in that sentence?
Dimitri looks at me over Tyler’s shoulder again and grins. “I haven’t texted Clarissa yet. I’m meeting her for coffee tomorrow, so I figured I’d ask her for Zooey’s number then. But now that Zooey happens to be—”
“Tomorrow?” Tyler booms. “I can’t wait that long, man!” He runs his hand through his hair. “Listen, man. You’ve got to do me a solid and give that roommate of hers a call right now. Let me sweet-talk her into giving me Zooey’s number before I lose my mind.”
Dimitri flashes Tyler a face that says, You’re the stupidest human alive. “Hey, Tyler,” he says. “You might want to shake your head because I think your eyes are stuck. Oh, and you might want to put on your listening ears, too. What I was trying to tell you when you interrupted me is that I was planning to ask Clarissa for Zooey’s number in person tomorrow because, apparently, Zooey left the party the other night not wanting to see you ever again. But, as I was further trying to tell you, waiting until tomorrow to ask Clarissa for Zooey’s number is now a moot point because she’s—”
“A moot point?” Tyler bellows. “If Zooey left the party never wanting to see me again, that’s even more reason why I need her number now. God only knows what guys she’s been meeting these past two days in her dorms or at the student center or wherever.” He grunts like a gorilla. “Look, man, I made a huge mistake with Zooey the other night—an epically huge I’m-a-total-dumbshit mistake—and I haven’t stopped regretting it since.”
Dimitri bites his lip like he’s trying not to burst out laughing. He glances at me behind Tyler’s shoulder again, and I shake my head frantically, telling him not to let on that I’m standing here.
Dimitri’s gaze returns to Tyler. “Wow, man,” Dimitri says. “What on earth did you do to Zooey that’s got you so wound up?”
My entire body tenses. Oh, crap. Part of me wants to scream, “I’m standing right behind you, Tyler!” to keep Tyler from divulging the mortifying truth about what happened between us. But an even larger part of me desperately wants to hear whatever Tyler’s going to reply, no matter how embarrassing it might be.
“The details don’t matter,” Tyler says, swatting at the air. “Bottom line is that Zooey asked me to…um…grab a cheeseburger with her. And I said no.”
My body relaxes. Thank God.
“I figured there was no point in me grabbing a cheeseburger with her because it couldn’t lead to anything, you know? Football’s my focus right now, and a cute girl like her wanting to grab a cheeseburger with me felt kind of like I’d be leading her on. But the minute she left, I realized I’d messed up—that I shouldn’t have said no to a simple cheeseburger. I mean, if that’s what the girl wants, who am I to turn her down? It’s just one meal, after all. It doesn’t have to turn into anything more than that, no matter how hot she is. But now I’m tortured with thoughts of her grabbing a cheeseburger with some other guy.” His voice takes on an unmistakable urgency. “So, please, just text Zooey’s roommate and get her damned number for me so I can call her and ask her to get a cheeseburger with me as soon as humanly possible.”
Dimitri chuckles. “Oh, my God. This is comedy gold. Okay, Tyler, I’ve had my fun. Turn around. Zooey’s standing right behind you.” He motions to me. “Literally, right behind you, dude.”
Tyler slowly turns around, and his expression morphs into the one every cartoon character makes whenever they see an oncoming locomotive. “Zooey?”
I shoot him a clipped wave. “Hi.”
Tyler’s eyes sweep over my curly hair and makeup-free face and then traverse the full length of my body before locking onto my face again. He swallows hard. “How long have you been standing there?”
I bite my lip. I’m quite certain this is one of the most deliciously satisfying moments of my entire life. And one I intend to milk for all it’s worth. “I was talking to Dimitri when you first walked up and interrupted us. I heard every single word you said.”
Tyler palms his forehead.
“And while I appreciate everything you told Dimitri—I truly do—I should tell you I’ve completely changed my mind about grabbing a cheeseburger with you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do still crave having a cheeseburger with someone, but just not with you.”
Tyler turns to Dimitri, looking forlorn. “Could you excuse us for a minute, nerd?”
I bristle. Nerd? Wow. Just because Tyler’s feeling humiliated in this moment, doesn’t mean he can take it out on Dimitri. “Don’t go, Dimitri,” I say, taking special care to emphasize Dimitri’s name in light of Tyler’s snub. “You promised to walk me to Randolph for my next class, remember, Dimitri?”
Tyler’s face lights up. “Your next class is in Randolph?”
I nod. “Social Psych in”—I look at my watch—“fifteen minutes. So, unfortunately, I have to get a move-on. Great seeing you again, Tyler. Love the shirt. Good luck avoiding any and all emotional distractions until May.” I motion to Dimitri. “Come on, Dimitri.”
“Hang on, nerd,” Tyler says sharply. “I’ll walk her.”
Yet again with the “nerd” thing? What is this, The Breakfast Club? “No thank you,” I say tightly. “I wouldn’t dream of inconveniencing you. Come on, Dimitri.”
“It’d be no inconvenience at all,” Tyler says, a wicked smile spreading across his gorgeous face. “It just so happens my next class is Social Psych in Randolph, too.”
Chapter Eight
“It’s true,” I say, walking stiffly alongside Tyler through swarms of students. “Thanks to you, I’ve realized there’s a big difference between sexual liberation and sexual stupidity. Plus, truth be told, I’m not physically attracted to you anymore. Not after the way you treated Dimitri back there.”
Tyler stops walking, and I follow suit. He looks genuinely baffled. “After the way I treated Dimitri? What are you talking about?”
I roll my eyes. “The fact that you don’t even know what dicky thing you did to Dimitri is even more proof of your dicky-ness. A total turn-off.”
Tyler looks shocked. “You’re pissed at me because I insisted on walking you to Randolph? But I was going there myself.”
“No, no, not that. I’m not insane.”
“Then what?”
“You truly don’t know?”
“You could waterboard my ass and I still wouldn’t be able to tell you.”
I continue walking again. “Newsflash, Tyler. Calling Dimitri ‘nerd’ like you’re some meathead jock in an eighties teen flick was rude and dismissive. Not to mention totally cliché.”
Tyler chuckles.
“It’s not funny. What are you going to do to poor Dimitri next? Stuff him into a locker? Dump a tray of food on him in the cafeteria and threaten to beat him up if he doesn’t give you his lunch money?”
A look of extreme amusement has washed over Tyler’s gorgeous but dicky face. “Wow,” he says. “I’m such a dick.”
“Glad you’ve seen the light.”
“The biggest dick who ever lived.”
“
I realize you’re mocking me,” I say. “But the way you treated Dimitri was incredibly rude and immature. The simple truth is I’ve realized I need to like and respect a guy to continue feeling any kind of physical attraction to him beyond initial lust. And now that I’ve seen the way you treat people when you’re frustrated or embarrassed, especially someone as nice as Dimitri, the animal attraction I initially felt for you the other night is long gone.”
Tyler adjusts his backpack on his shoulder as we continue walking toward Randolph. “So let me get this straight. Despite our white-hot chemistry at the party a mere two days ago, and despite everything you overheard me saying to Dimitri about me changing my mind about that thing you asked me to do with you, you’re now not the least bit attracted to me simply because I called the tutor guy ‘nerd’?”
“The ‘tutor guy’ has a name. It’s Dimitri. And no amount of muscles and swagger and sparkling blue eyes and perfect white teeth is going to make you attractive to me after witnessing you treating Dimitri like crap.”
He laughs. “But, just to be clear, you did want to jump my bones before I opened my big mouth and treated Dimitri like crap?”
I don’t reply.
“Come on. If you’re going to reject me after I unwittingly poured my heart out to you back there, you should at least tell me the truth about that.”
I shrug. “Okay, yes. I admit when you first jogged up to Dimitri, I thought my panties were going to burst into flames. But, now, sadly, I’ve peeked behind the curtain and found out you’re the second coming of Emilio Estevez, and I’m totally and completely turned off.”
Tyler bites his lip like he’s trying not to laugh. “So, just to be really, really clear. If I hadn’t screwed up and called Dimitri ‘nerd’ back there, you probably would have come to my place tonight to let me do that thing you’re dying to do?”
I walk in silence.
“Come on, little freshman. You overheard me say all that stuff to Dimitri about you. The least you can do is give me that.”
I twist my mouth, consider how honest I want to be, and decide I might as well tell the guy the whole truth. Why not? The truth hurts, after all. And Tyler Caldwell is one guy who deserves to feel a little pain. “Yes. To be honest, I was so insanely attracted to you when I saw you again today, even more so than at the party, that I probably would have come to your place tonight to let you pop my cherry. But, unfortunately, you had to go and open your big, stupid Breakfast Clubby mouth, and now my lady-boner for you has vanished into thin air. Poof.”
“Poof?”
“Poof.”
“Huh.” He stops walking and motions to a large brick building next to us. “This is Randolph.”
I stop walking alongside him, adjust my backpack on my shoulder, and stare at him defiantly.
“Well, I must say, you’ve given me a lot to think about,” Tyler says. “One thing you should know about me is I’m always striving to improve myself as a human being. Not just as a football player or athlete, but also as a man. So I appreciate you giving me something to meditate on. Oh, I meditate. Did I mention that? Helps me clear my rambling mind.”
“Great. Glad to hear it. You’re the freaking Dalai Lama. Maybe next time you meditate, you should think about being less of a dick to ‘nerds.’”
“Yeah, that’s definitely the take-away from this life lesson, for sure. ‘Tyler Caldwell, you should be less of a dick to nerds.’” He looks at me wistfully. “Wow. I must admit I’m deeply disappointed your rampant sexual attraction to me…just…vanished. All because I called Dimitri ‘nerd.’”
I shrug. “Sexual attraction, at least for me, is like a light switch, Tyler. On. Off. On.” I look at him pointedly. “Off.”
“And I was so looking forward to giving you your first through fifth orgasms tonight, too.”
My clit is suddenly tingling. “Oh, well. Sucks to be you.”
“I guess so.” He looks at his watch. “Oh, we’d better get to class.” He motions politely toward the front entrance of Randolph. “After you, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
“Oh, hey, hold up one sec,” Tyler says after I pass him. “Just one quick thing.”
I stop in the doorframe and turn around.
“I don’t know if it makes any difference to your flaccid lady-boner or not, and I want you to know I fully respect your newfound flaccidity toward me either way. But I think maybe there’s one small thing you should take into consideration before deciding once and for all I’m not the guy to make you see God for the first through fifth time tonight.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone as he talks. “Do you happen to know that tutor guy’s full name?”
“I believe I’ve mentioned the ‘tutor guy’ has a name. It’s Dimitri.”
“But do you know his last name?”
My stomach tightens. Why do I suddenly feel like I’m walking into a trap here? “No.”
Tyler swipes into his texts. “Yeah, I figured as much.” He looks me dead in the eye, a devilish smirk curling one side of his mouth. “His name is Dimitri…Nerdtowsky.”
I close my eyes. Shit.
Tyler chuckles with glee. “And guess what Dimitri Nerdtowsky’s self-proclaimed nickname is? Can you guess?”
I open my eyes to find Tyler holding his phone out to me, a smug look on his face.
“Nerd,” Tyler spits out, answering his own question. “Dimitri’s nickname is Nerd. And if you don’t believe me, then check out this text conversation between us in which I initially addressed him as ‘Dimitri’ and he signed off in his reply as ‘Nerd.’”
I smash my lips together.
Tyler stuffs his phone into his front pocket, a grin on his face. “But, hey, thanks so much for chewing my ass. It was super fun.” He chuckles. “Actually, as long as brutal honesty seems to be our thing, I should confess watching you get so hot and bothered about what a dick I was to poor Dimitri was highly…arousing.” He laughs again and motions to the entrance to Randolph Hall. “After you, sweetheart. Make sure to save me a seat.”
Chapter Nine
I march into Randolph Hall, my cheeks hot and my heart racing…and immediately spot a face in the crowd that brings a demonic smile to my face. The golden god himself, Jake Grayson, is sitting in a middle row of the lecture hall, surrounded by a bunch of athletic-looking dudes.
I turn to Tyler walking into the classroom behind me. “Oh, look, there’s Jake,” I say primly. “Hey, do you think the universe is trying to tell me something? You advised me to find a nice guy who’ll buy me a cheeseburger before de-virginizing me and two days later, lo and behold, I find myself in a classroom with the one guy everyone in the world seems to think is the nicest, sweetest guy in the world.”
“Fuck,” Tyler mutters under his breath, his smug smile from a moment ago gone.
“I wonder if Jake likes cheeseburgers.”
“Zooey, listen to me. Jake’s not the guy for you.”
But I’m not listening to him. I’m too busy holding my pinky to my mouth like Dr. Evil.
“Ty!” Jake shouts, as if on cue.
“Will you introduce us?” I ask, batting my eyelashes. “I heard he’s super nice.”
“Come on,” Tyler says, grabbing my arm. But he doesn’t lead me toward Jake. He shoots a clipped wave toward Jake and the guys sitting with him and drags me toward two vacant seats in the front row.
I sit in the seat indicated by Tyler and pull out my laptop, my heart pounding in my ears. Oh, my, this is going to be fun.
Tyler leans in to my ear. “We both know you don’t want Jake. If you wanted him over me, you would have flirted with him at the party when he was drooling all over you and asking everyone who you were.”
“What?” I ask, floored.
“But you didn’t,” Tyler continues, obviously unaware he’s just revealed something to me I didn’t already know. “You went straight for me. And I went straight for you. Because we were magnet and steel. So fuck that bastard.”<
br />
I don’t reply. Holy shit.
A middle-aged woman with blonde, frizzy hair glides to a lectern at the front of the room and greets the class.
“To be continued, magnet,” Tyler whispers, pulling away from me.
“We’ll see about that, steel.”
“Count on it.”
The professor welcomes the class and, for the next twenty minutes, gives us an overview of Social Psychology and the structure of her ten-week class. “Your grade will be based on two things,” the professor explains. “A final exam and a midterm project you’ll complete with a partner.” She explains that each partnership duo will devise and conduct a series of experiments to explore any social psychology theory and then submit a written analysis of their findings. “So let’s go through the partner assignments, shall we?” the professor says, holding up a piece of paper. “And, please, nobody ask me to switch partners. Out there in the real world, you’re going to have to work with colleagues or bosses you might not otherwise pick on occasion, so you might as well get used to doing that now.”
I look at Tyler, my expression telling him he’s the one person in this classroom I don’t want as a partner. He holds up crossed fingers in reply, telling me he’s praying to get assigned to me. In response, I flash him a look that says, If I were assigned to you as my partner, I’d throw myself off a bridge. And what does the cocky bastard do in reply to that? He winks and blows me a little kiss.
The professor reads off the first two names on her list and then makes small talk with the duo. After that, she repeats the exercise about eight more times before finally saying, “Tyler Caldwell?”
My stomach seizes. Please, God, don’t let her say my name next. I don’t have any desire to be attached at the hip to this egomaniac for the next five weeks, working on a project worth half my grade. Surely, if I were assigned to work with Tyler, we’d wind up having a one-night stand at some point, simply because he’s gorgeous and sexy, and I’m only human. And then, following that, everything between us would feel tense and awkward, and our project would surely suffer. Not good.
