Misadventures of a College Girl (Misadventures #9)(17)

“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.”

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.

Tyler raises his arm in response to the professor calling his name. “Hi, Professor.”

The professor flashes Tyler a beaming smile. “Great game the other night. I lost my mind when you made that interception at the last minute. I thought I was going to pass out.”

Tyler chuckles. “I had a similar reaction.”

Everyone laughs.

“How on earth did you make that catch?” the professor asks, her eyes sparkling with obvious admiration. “It’s like you had a jet pack on your back.”

Tyler chuckles again. “It was equal parts adrenaline and luck.”

“And talent,” the professor adds. “Supernatural talent.”

Tyler’s teammates at the back of the room groan.

“Don’t encourage him!” one of the guys sitting near Jake calls out.

“Oh, pipe down,” the professor says playfully. “I’m just giving credit where it’s due. That was one of the most acrobatic interceptions I’ve ever witnessed, and I’ve watched a lot of football in my life.”

“Come on, Prof,” one of the players in the back shouts. “Don’t make his head even bigger than it already is. With all the interceptions Tyler’s been racking up this season already, his head could barely fit through the doorway of the classroom as it is!”

Everyone laughs, including the professor and me.

“Okay, okay,” the professor says gaily. She flashes a warm smile at Tyler. “Stay humble, Tyler. If not, you’re going to get me into trouble here.”

“Always.”

The guys at the back of the room groan and scoff again.

The professor looks down at her paper again, smiling from ear to ear. “Okay, Tyler. You want to know your partner assignment?”

Tyler looks at me and winks. “Make it a good one.”

“Your partner is…”

My stomach squeezes. Please, God, no.