Misadventures of a College Girl (Misadventures #9)(5)

Oh, fuckity. He’s walking in my direction and making my heart pound harder and harder with each step he takes. Finally, when he’s mere feet away from me, I’m able to make out the white lettering emblazoned across his black T-shirt. God’s Gift to Womankind. That’s what Loki’s T-shirt says! Ha! I roll my eyes to myself. And to think I’d been nervous I wouldn’t be able to spot a womanizer at this party.

Mr. God’s Gift to Womankind stops walking to chat with a group of people, and they high-five him and pat him on the back like he’s the second coming of Christ.

I grab Clarissa’s arm and lean in to her ear. “Dark hair. Tattoos. Black shirt. Everyone’s fawning all over him.” I indicate with my elbow. “Read his T-shirt. Total douchebag.”

Clarissa follows my gaze toward the guy…at the exact moment he turns his head away from his group…and looks straight at me. Shocked, I look down at my hands, my heart clanging. Holy hell, that was quite a smolder that boy just directed at me. Damn.

“Zooey,” Clarissa whispers into my ear, poking my arm. “He’s looking right at you. Look at him!”

But I can’t muster the courage. The smolder Loki aimed at me was so sexual, it flash-melted the cotton crotch of my panties.

Clarissa nudges me again. “He’s ogling you! Ogle him back!”

“I suck at flirting,” I murmur. “I warned you.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” She grabs my forearm and leans in to me. “Now listen to me, Karate Kid. Stare that hottie down right freaking now for a slow count of five. Look into his eyes and think this exact thought—I want to suck your dick. Now do it!”

I take a deep breath, channel my inner vixen, and look up, resolved to follow my master’s rather shocking instructions…but, dammit, no! God’s Gift to Womankind isn’t looking at me anymore. He’s on the move, working his way through the crowded kitchen, fist-bumping and high-fiving admirers as he goes. “Crap,” I whisper to Clarissa. “I blew it.”

“No, no. That was just round one,” Clarissa says. “That boy’s not even close to done with you yet.”

Dimitri wraps up a conversation he’s been having with that Hawaiian-looking dude from the other room and then returns his attention to us. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing much,” Clarissa says. “We were just talking about our classes.”

“What classes are you ladies taking this quarter?”

Clarissa takes one for the team and launches into telling Dimitri about her class schedule so I can continue eyeball-stalking God’s Gift to Womankind across the kitchen. I peek in his direction and…Gah! He’s staring right at me again! Standing at the keg in the corner with a group of athletic-looking guys and staring right at me!

My inner voice is screaming at me to look away. But I force myself to maintain eye contact and follow Mr. Miyagi’s instructions to a tee. Slowly, I count to five, my eyes locked with his. I want to suck your dick, I think, making myself blush.

A broad smile spreads across his handsome face. He licks his lips in a decidedly sexual way, sending warmth oozing into my crotch. I quickly look down at my hands again, my heart racing. Holy crap.





Chapter Three





Dimitri returns from talking to some people on the other side of the room. He’s carrying red Solo cups for himself and Clarissa and a bottle of water for me. We girls thank him profusely for his thoughtfulness.

“My pleasure,” Dimitri says, tipping his invisible cap to us. “At your service.”

I lean in to Clarissa. “He’s a cutie. Are you feeling romance or friend zone?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’ve never had sex with anyone other than an alpha-type before. But I must admit I’m a little curious to see if the rumors are true.”

“Rumors?”

“That nerds make it all about you.”

We both giggle.

“Huh?” Dimitri asks. “What’d I miss?”

“Just a little girl talk,” Clarissa says breezily. She pats Dimitri’s arm. “Trust me, you’d like it.”

Dimitri smiles.

“So, hey, Dimitri, do you know who that dude is with the dark hair and tattoos?” Clarissa asks, motioning toward the keg with her cup. “He was ogling Zooey a few minutes ago.”

Dimitri glances across the room toward the keg. “Tyler Caldwell,” he says without hesitation. “Junior. Safety. All-American.”

“Free or strong safety?” I ask.

“Oh, you know football?”

I nod. “My dad played in college.”

Dimitri nods his approval. “Free. And he’s a beast.”

“Yeah, I figured he’s somebody,” I say. “Everyone keeps fawning all over him.”

“People treat Tyler like he’s king of the world any given day, but tonight especially. He had a fumble recovery and two picks in last night’s game, including a pick to clinch the win at the very end. It was unbelievable.”

I gaze covertly across the room at Tyler. “Based on his shirt, he obviously thinks quite highly of himself.”

“Tyler always wears shirts like that. Honestly, I’m not sure if he’s serious or trying to be funny. I’ve never talked to him. But from what I hear, he’s an egomaniac. The anti-Jake.” He chuckles. “Seriously, you might want to pick another guy to flirt with, Zooey—unless, of course, your goal for the night is to become yet another of Tyler Caldwell’s notoriously long list of conquests.”