I tense my biceps and give her my signature fuck-me eyes.
“Well, sweetheart, you have my Instagram. It would've been quicker just to message me.”
She doesn’t even blink. Instead, she looks at me with actual disgust. Ouch. I don’t think a woman has ever looked at me like that before.
And I should hate it. I should walk away and chat with anybody else.
But I don’t—because it means she sees through the act. She’s not impressed, not swayed, not seduced.
She’s a challenge.
And I like that. I like that a little too damn much.
“If I wanted a sexually transmitted disease, maybe. But no.”
Jesus Christ. I’m about to fire back, but then—she scans the crowd. And locks onto Jared.
Jared.FuckingJared.
“I think he will do,” she says.
No. Absolutely not.
“Oh, god no. Not him.”
She arches a brow. “You know him?”
I grit my teeth. “Yeah. He's my friend.”
She tilts her head slightly, actually interested now. “Then shouldn’t you be wingmanning? Isn’t that, like, bro code?”
“Fuck no. I'm protecting you here, Mittens. He's a dick—don't have sex with him,” I say. “Please,” I add.
She laughs, like I just told the funniest joke in the world.
“And who should I have sex with, then?”
I exhale dramatically, pretending to survey the room.
“Well, if I'm out of the question, then I guess...” My eyes land on a terrified-looking freshman. “Him. He looks like he'd be delicious.’
She follows my gaze, unimpressed.
“Not my type.”
I pretend to be shocked.
“What? I would've thought he'd be perfect. I'm assuming you're like a female spider—you eat your lovers after milking them?”
She lets out a short laugh before catching herself. Her lips press into a thin, unimpressed line.
“You are an ass, Hawkins. I don't even know why I'm speaking to you. You’re probably going to take credit for this party or something soon.” She crosses her arms, voice dripping with disdain.
I blink, thrown for a second. “Wait, are you still upset about that AC thing at camp? That was months ago.”
“Yes, that 'AC thing,'” she mimics, eyes flashing. “Where I spent three hours fixing the system on a Friday night when no engineers could come, andsomehowyou got all the credit.”
“I didn't ask for any credit,” I say, genuinely confused by her intensity. “People just assumed?—”
