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NERDGASM A NAUGHTY NERDS NOVELLA

KIMBERLY REESE

Nerdgasm, Copyright © 2018 by Kimberly Reese All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design: Shano

Designs

Editor: Elevated Edits Formatter: Elevated Edits

To anyone who has ever been bullied or made to feel they weren’t good enough the way they are, YOU ARE ENOUGH.

CONTENTS

Foreword Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Epilogue Afterword What’s next?

Acknowledgments Coming Soon by Kimberly Reese Also by Kimberly Reese Excerpt of Sin and Cider Prologue Chapter 1 Thirsty for more?

About the Author

FOREWORD

Nerdgasm was originally meant to be part of an unlikely heroes anthology, and the initial challenge for me was to keep it between 20-25k words. If you know anything about me, I’m wordy AF, so this was a challenge. Unfortunately, the anthology fell through, and I was faced with the choice to table this story, trash it, or publish it on my own.

At a time when I was struggling with self-doubt, anxiety, and writer’s block on my second book, Theo stuttered sweetly in my ear, demanding his story be told. What else could I do but listen? I went in with the intention of publishing a novella to challenge myself (although if I felt more story was needed, my wordy ass would’ve complied).

Almost 45k words later—and after a lot of stressing over the character development, condensed timeline, and reception of my readers—here it is.

This story helped me get back in a groove, and I’ll be forever grateful I stuck to it. I hope I did Theo’s character justice and that in a world of alpha males, my sweet beta nerd stands out. I hope you enjoy this story and love the cast of characters as much as I do. Happy reading!

PROLOGUE THEODORE

Six years old I PUSH the blue bead along on the rollercoaster maze as I wait for mommy to finish talking to the doctor. Up, down, across, around, and down again. We come here a lot, and I get sad when mommy is sad. I feel like the more we come here, the sadder she gets. As my fingers move to reach for a green bead, the conversation reaches my ears.

“Dr. Michaels, is this normal?” Mommy whispers. She sounds worried, and she doesn’t know I can hear her.

“Like I’ve said before, Mrs. Cadwell, nothing is wrong with Theodore.” He’s using the same voice she uses when she’s trying to be patient. “Males are four times more likely to stutter than females. Genetic factors could also play a role. Does anyone else in the family stutter?”

“When it first started—before James passed away—I remember him saying his uncle or someone else in the family stuttered. I’m just worried because it started a couple years ago and stopped on its own, but it started up again a few months ago out of nowhere.”

“Some children will grow out of it; the percentage of children who stutter usually only do so for six months or more. Granted, that’s more of a benchmark, so keep in mind there’s a chance it’ll

be something he’ll deal with throughout his life. I would monitor it and check in with Theo.”

“It’s more severe than it was last time, and now that he’s in elementary school, I don’t want him to be singled out. Kids can be cruel, and I just worry about my baby,” she says, clearly distraught.

I look over at her, the green bead forgotten, and she looks lost.

This is all my fault. I don’t want to be the reason my mommy feels this way, but I can’t help how I talk. I feel out of control when I stutter, and I feel bad.

“You’re his mother, so that’s completely understandable.

Long-term stuttering is only seen in about one percent of children, but there are treatment options. He’s still very young, and I see no reason why he can’t eventually make a full recovery.

As I mentioned earlier, this isn’t my area of expertise. If it doesn’t go away and continues to become more severe, I suggest consulting a specialist if you want to look into this further.”

“I can’t a ord it right now,” she murmurs. “If he needs it though, I’ll find a way. I need to do what’s best for my son.”

I get up from my seat on the play rug and walk over when I hear her voice crack. Slipping my hand into hers, I tug so she looks down at me, the tears in her eyes sparkling like little diamonds.

“M-m-mommy, don’t be s-sad. I’m sorry s-something’s wwrong with me.”

“Oh, Theodore!” she cries as she drops down so we are eye to eye. She wraps me up in a warm hug and squeezes me tightly.

“Nothing is wrong with you, my sweet boy.”

“B-but you’re always s-sad. It’s b-because of m-m-me.”

“I miss your daddy, and I’m just worried about you. Trust me when I say that nothing is wrong with you at all. You’re perfect.”

Before I can respond, Dr. Michaels drops down so he’s on the same level as us. “Your mother is right, Theodore. There’s nothing wrong with you; I promise. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Lots of people stutter at some point in their lives. If anyone asks about

it, just tell them you stutter sometimes. It’s not a big deal.” He smiles kindly before continuing. “How about you continue to visit me for your regular check-ups? When you stop by, we can talk about your progress. You’re a bright, healthy boy, and I know you’re going to excel in everything you do.”

Mommy smiles at his words, which makes me want to smile too. “O-okay. Can I bring my Iron Man c-c-comic book next time, p-please?”

“Of course.” Dr. Michaels nods and reaches out to ru e my hair before he stretches back to his full height. “You’re my favorite visitor, and reading comic books with you is always the highlight of my day.”

“M-mine too.” I look up to my mommy, and she’s smiling with us.

Eleven years old “Look, it’s Th-th-theodork!”

The sound of laughter follows me as I walk through the school cafeteria, my lunch tray gripped tightly between my fingers. I started middle school this year, and the bullying I dealt with in elementary school started up again soon after the school year started. I guess it was too much to wish it wouldn’t continue.

“Hey, n-n-nerd!”

“Why are you ignoring me? Did I st-st-stutter?”

More laughter and snickering follows that last taunt, and I keep walking, making sure to keep my eyes focused straight ahead. Practice has made it so it’s easier to ignore the other kids who make fun of me, but their words still sting. The kids I went to elementary school with got over my stutter, but these older kids can’t seem to leave it alone.

I walk to one of the empty tables in the back, wishing more than ever that Demi, my best friend and neighbor, were here with me. She’s still in elementary school, and although she’s already

skipped two grades since she’s a smarty-pants, she has another two years before she can join me. It’s going to be a long two years.

Fifteen years old “They w-wasted no time this y-year,” I mumble under my breath.

“Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, please,” Dr. Michaels instructs as he holds his stethoscope against my back to listen to my lungs. I do as he says a few times, and after he comments that everything sounds good, he asks, “Now that that’s out of the way, what were you saying, Theodore?”

I lean forward and place my elbows on my knees as I run my hands through my hair. Dr. Michaels is my family doctor, and I visited him today to get my physical out of the way for school. I’ve known him most of my life, and I jump at the opportunity to catch up with him whenever I visit.

“I was s-sayin’ that they w-wasted no time this year. It’s llike I’m some sort of f-freak show, and they c-can’t leave me alone.”

“I recall the bullying started again in middle school and then tapered o , yes?”

“Yeah,” I admit.

“Based o our talks over the years, I’m assuming the bullying will be worst the first year or two of high school. Once the socalled ‘novelty’ wears o and people accept it, it should stop again.”

“I k-know, but I don’t like f-feeling like a f-f-freak. All I ever am to people is the quiet n-nerd who st-stutters. You’d think they’d come up with s-something more original. Theodork isn’t anything new,” I say bitterly. I can hear the frustration in my tone clear as day.

“Theodore, I’m not supposed to say this as your doctor, but as someone who considers himself a family friend, I’m going to tell you something. Just know I’ll never admit it.” He pauses until I raise my eyes to his and make eye contact. “Don’t let these little shits make you feel like a freak. They’re just jealous little assholes.”

A startled laugh escapes me at his words. I wasn’t expecting that.

“I’m serious, Theodore,” he continues. “They probably do it to try and get a rise out of you because they’re insecure, and they want to make themselves feel big when they’re actually really small. You’re one of the brightest people I know, and you’re an excellent example of what today’s youth should be like. You’re smart, polite, motivated, and you have a great future ahead of you. I’ve known you for over a decade, and I know stuttering has been something you’ve been dealing with, but I don’t want you to let it define you. Also, you should know you’re not alone.”

“Thanks, Dr. Michaels. It’s not like it’s gotten w-worse, it just tends to be worse when I g-get anxiety about sp-speaking, especially when I think it might h-happen. The more I think about it, the more it comes out. I hate not being able to c-control it.”

“I’m no expert, but that seems pretty standard with stuttering, Theodore. Have you talked to your mother about the bullying?” I shift uncomfortably, and he can see the guilt on my face. “You need to tell her.”

“I know, but I don’t want to worry her.” My mom has accepted my stutter and doesn’t look at me di erently, but I know she’ll freak if she knows I’m getting picked on for it. Things are tight financially at home, and the last thing I want her to feel is guilt or like she failed me somehow.

“She’ll feel worse if you keep it from her, and I know she’d rather hear it from you.” He peers at me, and his unspoken message is clear: tell her, or I will.

“You’re right.” He is, but I don’t relish the thought of having that particular conversation.

“I also think there are a few things you haven’t tried that might help.”

“Like what?” My curiosity is piqued, and I’m glad I’m able to get the words out clearly.

“Well, for one, I think speech therapy is a great option and that you could benefit greatly from it. There’s nothing wrong with you, but if you want to learn how to control the stuttering in those situations where you feel out of control, this could be a great option. I mentioned it to your mother a time or two when you were younger, and I think she wanted you to make that choice for yourself rather than think she was trying to ‘fix’ you. You’ve kept her in the dark about the bullying, which has probably influenced her decision, but she only wants what’s best for you.”

I process his words for a moment and can see the merit in his suggestion. “She really does. I’ll talk to her about it.”

Dr. Michaels nods in approval. “Good, I think it’d prove beneficial for you.”

“We just...it’s been hard, and I want to help her…” My words trail o , but he seems to know where my thoughts are.

“I’ve known your family a long time, so I know things have been hard since your father passed. You’re almost sixteen, so if you need an after school or summer job, I can make a few phone calls and help you out. It’ll be no big deal, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your schoolwork. Your mother would have my head otherwise.”

“Yeah,” I say on a laugh.

He’s completely right; my mom’s always asked that I get good grades. I hope to get a scholarship one day to help her, but if I can pay for the amount of treatment not covered by insurance on my own, I could alleviate the financial burden I know it’ll cause.

“I also think you can channel some of that frustration or nervous energy you have into physical activity. I know you’re

getting your physical for gym class, but have you thought about playing any sports?”

I shake my head. “Not really a team sports person.”

“Hmm.” He proceeds to use the otoscope attached to the wall to check both of my ears, thinking the whole time. “You’ve mentioned that you like to swim, and I hear you swim like a fish.

Maybe you should consider joining the high school swim team.

That’s an individual team sport if I ever saw one.”

“Maybe.” The thought of putting myself out there and joining an organized school activity makes me nervous. I’ll have to talk to Demi about it; even though she hasn’t started at my high school yet, she’s wise beyond her years and is my biggest confidant.

As if he can read my mind, Dr. Michaels continues. “I know you have friends, but this will also help you socialize a bit more. Two birds with one stone, Theodore. On another note, now that your physical is done, I can confirm that you’re in perfect physical health. Just be sure to visit your optometrist to make sure your prescription is up to date.”

I get up from the table in the center of the room, the thin paper I was sitting on crinkling as I move. Before I can thank Dr. Michaels for the advice, he looks down at his wrist to check the time.

“I’ve got ten minutes until my next appointment. Do you have a few to talk about the latest Marvel movie?”

“Always.” I smile. Even after all these years, talking about comic books and their movie counterparts is the highlight of these appointments. I have a lot to think about that might change my life, but for now, I’m going to fall into my comfortable routine.

ONE THEO

Present Day, Twenty-three years old M Y BODY CUTS through the water silently, my body working like a well-oiled machine as I start my last set of laps. The only drowning that takes place while I’m in the water is of my thoughts, the blank canvas a welcome reprieve from the cacophony of things I need to keep track of. Knowing my daily time in the pool is coming to a close soon, my muscles move o of memory, much like a sprinter expelling that last burst of energy to reach the finish line. I push myself harder, faster, and more fluidly toward the end of the long rectangle of water I consider my safe haven, determined to best my time from the day before.

I reach the edge of the Olympic-size pool, and like always, I reach one hand out for my stopwatch while I wipe my face with the other. Instead of cool plastic, my fingers close around what feels like the top of a shoe. I know who it is without looking, so I shake my head to get as many water droplets flying as possible. A familiar squeal of laughter greets my ears, and I smile as I look up at my best friend.

“You shaved two seconds o of yesterday’s time, but I’m adding three seconds for spraying me with water,” Demi

chides. Her voice is stern, but the twinkle in her eyes gives her away.

“Sorry about that, Demi.” I smile up at her as I slick my hair back away from my forehead and lean my forearms on the edge of the pool. “Thanks for clocking my time.”

“Duh. What are best friends for?” She backs away from me to sit on the bench against the wall, probably to avoid getting splashed. She knows me too well. “Speaking of best friends, I thought I should warn you that you’re at risk of being late.”

I glance above her at the clock on the wall; I’m good on time. “The class I’m a teacher’s assistant for doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, Demi. I have plenty of time.”

“Wrong, Theo. I was there when you got the email assigning you to the class you’ll be helping out with.

Professor Wilder asked that you show up fifteen minutes before the start of class today so he can talk to you and get to know you a little better. Based o of that information, I highly suggest you hightail it to class. You need to throw on some clothes, and we need to get you across campus. I can drive you. Now go. I’ll meet you outside. You have thirteen minutes!” she shouts after me.

I was out of the pool and rushing toward the men’s locker room to rinse o and change as soon as she said the word “go,” her warning and accompanying laugh echoing o the walls around me. The fall semester started this week, but the class I’m going to TA for starts today. I’m determined to make a good impression, so I’m ready and presentable in record time. I’m wiping my glasses clean as I practically sprint to Demi’s car. I fling open the passenger door and buckle myself in quickly.

“Good job. We’ll be there in five, which’ll give you three minutes to spare,” she says smugly.

“You’re too good,” I admit.

“I know,” she laughs. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself away from the pool during open swim time, and I know you park across campus. I thought I’d play it on the safe side and check on you after I visited my dad since today is my light day.”

Demi’s dad works for Cornell University, where we go to school, so she makes it a point to visit him whenever she can. She’s one of the smartest people I know, yet he’s still a stickler about her grades. Part of me thinks her frequent visits are to make sure he isn’t breathing down her neck too much.

I look over at my childhood best friend and smile in gratitude. She can feel my eyes and turns to beam at me, her smile lighting up her face. After all these years, we’ve maintained our friendship. It probably helped that she lived next door, and although she’s three years younger than me, her skipping grades in school definitely helped us stay close.

Now that we’re both in college, we’ve leased a place together o campus. It’s comforting to have her as a constant in my life, and I trust her more than anyone else I know.

“Thanks for saving my butt today, Demi.”

“Anytime, Theo. I do have a teensy little favor to ask of you, please.” She turns to me again and attempts a really cute puppy dog face.

I laugh at her expression. “What do you want?”

“Let me know what you think of Wilder and his class, please. I heard he might be teaching Symbolism of Fairy Tales in Adult Psychology next semester, and I want to make sure he’s as good as they say he is. What better source for info than his trusty TA?” “I’ll let you know what I think,” I tell her just as she pulls up to the curb.

“Thanks, Theo. Now get to class!”

“Yes, ma’am.” I mock-salute her before leaning over to give her a hug. “I’ll see you tonight at home.”

“Sounds like a plan. I can’t wait to hear how things go.”

I quickly exit the vehicle and tap the top of the hood twice in thanks before I lean down and wave goodbye. I check my cell and see I’ve got two minutes to spare before I need to arrive. Dang. I rush o toward class, my legs moving with the swiftness of Hermes with a message for Zeus.

I’m not quite sure how it happened, but one minute I’m flying, and the next someone is crashing into me. My messenger bag swings open from the impact, the contents fluttering out like confetti, but before I try and grab my things, I look to make sure the person who ran into me is okay. I turn and see a willowy girl with tousled locks rushing away as she shouts “I’m so sorry!” over her shoulder at me, her top billowing behind her as she flees. I stand still for a few moments as I stare after her, the parts of my body where we bumped into each other still warm from the contact.

TWO THEO

B Y THE TIME I pick up my scattered papers and make it to class, I’ve got barely a minute to spare. I readjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder as I enter and head toward the front of the lecture hall. As my steps bring me closer, I catch sight of Professor Wilder. He’s seated at the desk to the left of the podium that flanks the small stage, his head bowed low over a sheet of paper as he writes something down.

“Right on time,” he says in greeting, his head still lowered. He lifts an arm and gestures toward the desk opposite him on the right side of the stage. “Thank you.

Please set your things down and pull up a seat.”

He finally raises his head, and his eyes find mine. His gaze is direct and piercing as he silently scrutinizes me. I can see how his unwavering stare would intimidate many, but after a lifetime of being looked at and mentally picked apart by my peers, I’ve learned how to keep my expression steady and not let it get to me.

I set my bag down on my desk and hold his stare as I move to stand in front of his desk. He raises a quizzical brow, so I reach forward with my hand and introduce myself.

“Theo Cadwell. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

He extends his own hand, and we exchange a firm handshake. After a few seconds he subtly nods his head, as if

he’s satisfied. “Cohen Wilder.”

Nodding my head in return, I move to take a seat close to his desk. He turns to look at me, and his assessing gaze takes me in for another moment before he speaks. “Have you ever TA’d for anyone before?”

“No, sir, but I’ve had classes with TAs before, and I took the TA orientation o ered by the school.”

His lips lift in a smirk. “Please, none of that ‘sir’ shit.

You’re not my student. I’m very demanding of my students, and I’ll be demanding of you, but you can call me Cohen.

We’ll be working together all school year, and I hope we can be on friendly ground, so no need for formalities. Also, you should know I have an open door policy. Feel free to talk to me or swing by my o ce if you need to talk or just need a quiet place to grade papers.”

“Okay, thank you.” I’m a little stunned; this guy’s as cool as he looks.

“We have a few minutes before class starts, so how about you tell me a little about yourself and I run through what I need from you. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” I answer with a smile.

I give him a brief background on my area of study and what I hope to get from the class, and he gives me a rundown of what he expects of me this semester, which doesn’t seem out of the norm from what I’ve observed or learned. In addition to helping design some of the tests and course materials, I’ll be grading assignments, working with students who need help, and possibly teaching a class or two.

This last duty makes me slightly nervous. I try to avoid public speaking out of fear of triggering my stutter, which has been manageable the last few years thanks to taking Dr. Michaels’s advice, and he seems to notice my apprehension.

“You have that look,” he observes.

“What look?”

“The look that shows me you don’t relish the idea of speaking in public.”

“I’m not keen on it.” He continues to stare at me, obviously waiting for me to elaborate. “I have a stutter. I’ve learned to control it most of the time, but if I’m anxious about triggering it, it’s more likely to happen. I don’t want to put myself at risk, so to speak.”

Cohen regards me thoughtfully before he responds. “I see.

Well, how about we work on that confidence? No risk, no reward.” He flashes me a quick smile, stands, and walks around to the front of his desk.

Before I have the chance to reply, he checks his watch and leans against his desk just as the doors to the lecture hall burst open. “Let the fun begin,” he mutters under his breath as the first wave of students enters the room.

I move to my desk on the opposite side and watch how Cohen’s easy demeanor with me transforms to stern and commanding as undergrad students—mostly female, by the looks of it—filter in and find their seats. His smile is no longer in place, and he stands with his arms crossed over his chest. A few minutes pass and once everyone is seated, Cohen inspects the room like a king surveying his subjects.

As his gaze travels across the room from one side to the other, a collective shiver seems to follow in his wake, and the whispers and idle chatter quiet down until he has everyone’s undivided attention. Judging by the hearts in the eyes of every woman in the room, it doesn’t look like having their attention will be a struggle. I glance down at the roster in front of me and see the class maxed out at 300 students; I had no idea he was this popular.

“Welcome to Intro to Greek Mythology.” His deep voice is loud and carries across the room easily, even without a microphone. “I’m Cohen Wilder, and I’ll be your professor this semester. Before I get started, please raise your hand if

this course is required for your curriculum path for your major.”

No one raises their hand. I catch the slight breath Cohen expels in what I’m guessing is disappointment or frustration.

“How many of you are taking this class as an elective?”

All hands raise up at this question, and Cohen uncrosses his arms and places his hands on his desk on either side of his hips.

“Got it. I’ll have to say now, if you took my course in hopes of getting an easy A, you’re in the wrong class.” I almost laugh at the fallen expressions on some of the students’ faces, but I keep it in check. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but this class will not be an hour and a half session of storytelling. This semester, we’ll be surveying Greek myths with an emphasis on their significance in Mediterranean society. We’ll use these myths to not only help our understanding of Greek literature, religion, and moral and political concepts, but we’ll also dig into how these myths were created. What factors and influences helped shape these stories? What was their role in Greek life and consciousness?” Excitement lights his eyes as he speaks, and I notice many students unconsciously lean forward, like moths to a flame, to catch more of his words. “These are the topics we’ll be learning about, and I hope you’re all ready to learn. If you’re not, please find another class to attend.”

Silence follows Cohen’s words, and even though some students look afraid, a majority of them still have stars in their eyes as they listen to him.

“This course may not be directly related to your major, but I challenge you to come to this class with an open mind.”

“I’ll come to class with open legs if he’d let me,” one girl with Shirley Temple curls snickers. Her voice is lowered, but her words manage to carry across the room.

“I’ll definitely be coming, that’s for sure,” her friend responds in a loud whisper.

They laugh, heedless of the fact that everyone is looking at them.

“What was that?” Cohen asks.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the giggling from the unstealthy pair of friends dies down. They both look at each other in fear before turning their embarrassed gazes toward their unimpressed professor.

“Nothing, sir,” Shirley Temple says in a contrite voice.

“We were just—” Before she can continue, Cohen cuts her o . “You were just saying how you’d come to class with open legs and that you’d be coming, yes?” His voice is low and quiet, but his tone is cold and cutting. I marvel at the calm way he’s calling them out; most professors I’ve had would’ve ignored comments like those. Then again, most of my professors are older, married, and don’t look like they walked o the pages of a romance novel (I only know this because Demi reads them).

Both girls stare at him with gaping mouths, resembling fish who desperately need oxygen. All eyes and ears in the room are soaking up the exchange like it’s on the front page of the latest gossip rag.

“That’s what I thought,” Cohen says when they don’t respond. “What are your names?”

“Kiara Simmons,” corkscrew curls whispers.

“Julie Jones,” her friend says, also in a whisper.

“Well, Ms. Simmons. Ms. Jones.” He glares at one and then the other. “Get out of my classroom. I will not tolerate any form of sexual harassment, and that includes any remarks of a sexual nature toward me. As of right now, you’re both o cially o the roster. This class has a waitlist,

so now your spots can go to people who actually want to learn.”

“But—” “Get. Out. Now.” He hasn’t raised his voice, but his tone is so frigid I’m surprised icicles haven’t formed.

Both girls rush out, and as soon as the doors bang shut behind them, Cohen looks back to the shocked classroom.

“Since today’s the first day of class, it seems like a little housekeeping is in order. Please pull out the syllabus I posted in our class discussion board last week. If you haven’t printed it, please share with the person next to you. Either way, pay attention.”

Each student scrambles to pull out the syllabus, and Cohen proceeds to cover it with everyone. I follow along and peek up at the class occasionally to see if they’re paying attention, which they are. We review the topics and course schedule, as well as school policies and class expectations.

Right as we’re about to finish, one of the doors bursts open, and a girl rushes in and down the steps.

All eyes swerve to Cohen to see his reaction. With a very casual glance at his watch and a slight lift of his eyebrow, he addresses the latecomer.

“May I help you, Ms...?”

“Mitchell. Addison Mitchell.” Her voice is breathless, and her cheeks are flushed, probably from a mixture of exertion and embarrassment. She moves closer, and although I can’t see her features clearly, I can tell she’s lovely. Tall and lithe, the long blonde mass of her hair give o a beachy vibe, as if she’s in the habit of running her hands through it.

“Well, Ms. Mitchell, if you’re here for Intro to Greek Mythology, you’re extremely late.”

“I promise I’m not usually like this, but I got a call from campus security saying my car was backed into in the parking lot. I had to go look at it and call my insurance

provider. I have a note from security if you’d like to see it.

I’m usually very punctual.”

“Regardless of the reason, please find a way to notify me or my TA ahead of time if you cannot make it to class. I normally have a zero-tolerance policy for people who arrive late, but considering the circumstances and seeing as today is the first day, this’ll be a free pass. Consider yourself lucky.

Please go take a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.” She turns on her heel and heads back up the steps toward one of the open seats vacated by the chatty pair earlier. Her hair moves with each step, and the floaty material of her top moves as well. Before she heads down the row to her seat, she looks over her shoulder and says, “Also, I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Cohen nods in acknowledgment of her words, but I freeze in place. I should’ve connected the dots when I saw her hair and shirt, but her words and the way she said them over her shoulder bring to the forefront of my mind my interaction earlier. This is the girl who bumped into me. I shake my head and look back to Cohen, who is covering the last of the information contained in the syllabus.

I look around the room, and every single woman I see is watching him with a rapt, dreamlike expression. All, it seems, except for one. I’m startled to find a pair of warm brown eyes looking at me with undisguised interest. I force my gaze to keep moving, but I feel the intensity of her stare.

I discreetly try to look behind and around me to see if something else captured her attention, but I don’t see anything. Like a set of magnets, my eyes find hers again, and she’s still watching me. I feel a blush start to burn my cheeks, and the smile that lights up her face in response takes my breath away.

Why does she keep looking at me? I think to myself. I’m starting to feel really out of my element.

THREE ADDY

S CORE one to my Intro to Mythology class for the mega eye candy. When I first entered the lecture hall, I instantly sought out the professor so I could express my apologies, and I was taken aback by how sexy he is. Sure, I heard the rumors, but I thought they were exaggerated; that’s definitely not the case. Tall with dark hair and strong, broad shoulders, he’s a knockout. His five o’clock shadow makes his bright blue eyes pop, and his deep voice is smoother than hot syrup. He holds himself with a distinct air of authority, and although he was nice enough, there’s something about him that is a little too intense for me. He e ortlessly holds the class’s attention, and I get the impression from the way he talks and assesses everyone that he’s a force to be reckoned with in any setting. I don’t know if he’s married, but he looks like he’d freakin’ consume a woman. That almost scary sex appeal is probably why the majority of class is female. Hell, almost all of the girls are practically panting and gushing in their seats, but I’ll take a hard pass.

I’m set to graduate after this semester, and I only need a few more classes and this one to satisfy an overlooked elective requirement to get my degree. I’m thankful I’m not caught up in the fangirling over my professor because it’ll be easier for me to focus and keep my GPA up.

Instead, my interests have surprisingly fallen elsewhere. I can’t keep my gaze from tracking back to my new professor’s TA every few minutes. Gorgeous in an unassuming way, he’s making it hard for me to focus on the last part of the syllabus that’s being covered right now.

Maybe I spoke too soon. If this continues, I might have trouble concentrating the rest of the semester.

At first glance, he isn’t anything like the guys who normally catch my attention. I’m usually attracted to guys who love being in the spotlight—whether as a sports star or just within their circle of friends—and I can tell this guy is the exact opposite. Not only did he straight up blush and look adorably bashful when I smiled at him, he almost seems hesitant to maintain eye contact with me. He looks content to sit back and observe, made all the more obvious when the professor draws attention to him.

“Now that we’ve covered the syllabus, I’d like you all to meet my TA, Theo.” God, even his name is cute. He gestures toward the object of my attention, who gives an awkward little wave to the class. “You can consider him my right hand man, and he’ll be your first point of contact this semester should you have any concerns. I expect him to receive the same deference and respect you’d a ord me. Theo, do you have anything you’d like to say to the class?”

I watch in curiosity as a lightning-quick moment seems to flash between professor and TA, almost as if a challenge was thrown down. I can see the ruddiness of Theo’s cheeks before he nods and moves to stand next to the podium. He doesn’t look comfortable being the center of attention, but his body moves with the confident, easy gait of someone at home in their own skin. He’s tall and lean with short brown hair, and his broad shoulders taper into a narrow waist.

His smooth, soothing voice interrupts my slow perusal of his body. “As Professor Wilder mentioned, I’m Theo Cadwell.

I’m in the graduate program for mythological studies, so I’m happy to help should you have any questions. If you need me, my contact information is in the syllabus, but please feel free to come talk to me if you need anything. You know where to find me,” he adds on with a sweet smile. He then removes his glasses and cleans the lenses on the hem of his shirt, thus signalling the end of his introduction.

“Excellent. Thank you, Theo,” Wilder says. “That’ll conclude today’s lecture. Please come prepared to discuss Hesiod’s Theogony and the three major generations of power.

You’ll find resources in your text and online. I’ll see you all next week.”

With those parting words, the students around me start to disperse. I stay in my seat, not eager to leave, and instead decide to watch Theo for a few uninterrupted moments. He and Wilder are speaking to each other, and he must feel the weight of my stare because he turns his head and looks right at me. I should probably be embarrassed about how often he’s caught me looking at him in such a short span of time, but I can’t find it in me to care. Guys aren’t always the most perceptive, and short of whacking him over the head with a club to let him know I’m interested, I think this is a pretty safe alternative. Besides, I think there’s interest there.

His dark chocolate eyes keep flickering between me and Wilder, and he lifts one arm to scratch the back of his head.

Even though he’s wearing a collared shirt with a light sweater, I can see the muscles of his biceps bunch with the movement. There’s something about Theo that draws me to him, and I want to explore what it is. I’m determined to meet him, but I’m not sure how. I’d go the tutoring route, but I’d look a little crazy since it’s the first day of class. Wilder and Theo part ways a moment later, each heading to their own desk.

Looking around, I see no one else is approaching him.

Right when I decide to just go down and wing it, a girl enters the lecture hall and makes a beeline straight to Theo.

“Hey, you!” she says as she launches herself against the back of his body, her long dark hair swinging as she wraps her arms around his midsection in a tight hug. “I was free and wanted to see if you’d like to get a bite before your next class. Wanna go?”

My stomach sinks as I watch Theo turn around and return her hug with a brilliant smile on his face. “You need anything?” He looks over her head to address our professor.

I glance at Wilder, who seems to be watching them as avidly as I have been, a peculiar expression on his face. “I’m good today. Go eat.”

Theo nods his thanks before turning his attention back to the girl he’s still loosely holding. From the familiar way they interact with each other, this has to be his girlfriend. She looks to be a few years younger than me, but that still doesn’t erase the pang of envy I feel as I watch them.

“Let’s try that Greek place we’ve been eyeing. I could probably eat five gyros.”

“Oink oink,” she jokes as she finally pulls away. “Does Greek mythology class have you craving Greek food? You must be starving after all that energy you burned earlier.”

“Famished. And you already know it’s my favorite way to unwind.” His words cause her to give him a playful push against his stomach, and he shakes his head with yet another smile.

Oh God, are they talking about sex? I decide to quit torturing myself with thoughts of my obviously taken TA, so I place my notebook in my bag and finally get up to leave. I make my way to the set of double doors leading to freedom, and I belatedly realize there’s another pair of hands pressing on the push bars. A shiver runs down my spine as I exit the

building, and I have to catch my breath when I look up and lock gazes with the person next to me.

I’m in trouble, I think as I get hit with the full force of my attraction to Wilder’s TA. Up close, he’s even more goodlooking and is the epitome of sexy nerdy chic. I can see the light dusting of stubble along his jaw, and his full lips are probably the nicest I’ve ever seen on a guy. He’s easily half a foot taller than me, and I can feel heat flood my face as he peers at me shyly over his glasses. My brain is sluggish as I take in the dichotomy of such a sexy man looking so nerdy and unsure.

Theo’s girlfriend, who’s even prettier than I initially thought, peeks around his shoulder and gives me a look of genuine concern. “Hey, you’re the one who ran into Theo before class. I saw you two collide in my rearview after I dropped him o . Are you okay?”

“Wait, you’re the one I bumped into?” My cheeks heat from mortification as I realize how I just ran o and left him.

“I’m so, so sorry about that. I would’ve stopped, but I was freaking out about my car. Are you okay?”

“It’s okay, and I’m f-fine.” He immediately clears his throat, and he and has girlfriend both wear matching expressions of surprise.

An awkward silence hangs between the three of us for a second before she pipes up. “I’m glad you’re both okay. I’m Demi, by the way. It’s nice to meet you. And you’ve already met Theo,” she says on laugh, the sound just as pretty as her face.

“Addison, but please, call me Addy.” I give a lame wave in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you both as well. I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but you two make a really cute couple.”

I hate to admit it, but they do. She’s the complete opposite of me in the looks department with her light eyes

and curvy figure, and the image they cut with their dark locks is striking.

Demi surprises me by wrinkling her nose and laughing.

“Oh, we’re not together.”

“You’re not?” I pray my voice comes across as surprised and not hopeful.

“No.” She looks up at Theo with a fond smile on her face.

“But we are best friends.”

The smile he gives her in return and the way he loops his arm around her shoulder makes me wonder if there are unspoken feelings between the two, but I try not to focus on it.

“Sorry about the assumption.”

“No need to be sorry. It seriously happens all the time, so we’re used to it. We’ve known each other since we were kids and grew up together, so that closeness is easy to misinterpret. Everyone we know asks at some point, and we look at it as an opportunity to clear the air. They don’t believe us most of the time, but we’re both single. We’re basically siblings.”

They’re both single? I can feel my lips twitch, and I have to fight to keep a smile from forming. I mentally give myself a shake before focusing on the first part of her sentence.

“Speaking of clearing the air…” Reaching out, I grab Theo’s forearm and give the muscle there a gentle squeeze.

“Again, I’m sorry about earlier. Friends?”

He looks down at my hand on his arm, which I promptly remove, and he visibly swallows, his Adam’s apple moving.

He lifts his gaze and his other arm, which he uses to push the bridge of his glasses up. Instead of replying, he gives me a brief nod and shoots Demi a look I can’t decipher.

“Well, we should probably get going,” she chimes in, obviously able to read his expression. “See ya later, Addy.

Let’s go, Theo. I hear some gyros calling our names.”

With a smile and wave in my direction, she grabs Theo’s hand and leads him away.

It’s not until they’re out of sight that I realize he barely spoke at all. He doesn’t come o as a douche, so I chalk it up to him as being extra shy. The marked di erence between guys I’m usually interested in and his reticence doesn’t turn me o . Instead, I feel a burning need to know him and an even stronger desire to make it happen. Now that I know he’s single, I can try to get to know him a little better. I finally let the smile I tamped down earlier break out. I hope he’s ready for me.

FOUR THEO

“Y OU LIKE HER ,” Demi says matter-of-factly as she drags me away to her car.

“I do not.” It’s taking a considerable amount of willpower to not turn back and look at Addy.

“Do too.”

“Demi, I don’t even know her,” I say to her back. “That was the first time I’ve ever spoken to her. I can’t like someone that fast.”

“Okay.” She stops and whirls on me as she halts in her tracks. “Say that to my face,” she orders as she peers into my eyes.

“I don’t like her. I p-promise.” Damn.

“Ha!” With a triumphant smile, she turns back around and continues to lead me away without another word. It’s not until we’re buckled up and on the road to Nóstima, the Greek restaurant we’ve been wanting to try, that she speaks again. “Theo, I love you, but you can’t lie to save your life, especially to me. You totally like her. Your stutter gave you away.”

“I stutter sometimes. That’s how I am. You know that.”

“And I know you, Theo. You’ve done a really great job managing your stutter the last few years, but it usually only comes out when you’re feeling a certain way.”

I know her well enough to realize she’s not going to let this go. “And?” “Outside of just being weary of stuttering in the first place, the feelings that usually trigger it are anxiety, frustration, or nervousness. Now, tell me, which of those best describes our little interaction with Addy? Hmm?” She’s giving me the side-eye as she drives, and her smug little smile has me chuckling against my will. “Fine, I can admit I was nervous. I can’t help that she’s pretty. I think seeing her again after she bumped into me threw me o .”

“You should ask her out.”

“She’s my student.”

An unladylike snort is all I get in response as we pull up to the restaurant. Once we’re parked, Demi turns in her seat to face me. “It’s not like she’s your student, Theo. You can date.

You should date.”

“You’re crazy. I’ll be grading assignments, so even if we did date, it’d be a conflict of interest.” I open up the passenger door, and we both head inside to be seated. “And where is all this coming from, you little rule breaker?”

Demi’s always been a bit of a rebel. “You’ve never pushed me to date before.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never known you to be interested in someone before. At least, not in a long time. This changes things. Besides, I think she’d say yes. The entire time we were talking, she couldn’t keep her eyes o you. Something tells me this little interest might be mutual,” she says in a singsong voice as she waggles her brows.

I let her words sink in. She did keep looking at me in class, but I’m not entirely sure what that means. For all I know, I had something on my face. It’d make more sense for her to be interested in Cohen, just like every other girl in class. Before I can tell Demi this, our waitress walks up to our table.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Nóstima. I’m Rhea, and I’ll be your server today.” She’s pretty, and she’s giving me a big smile as she lays our menus on the table. “Can I get you both started with something to drink?”

“Water with lemon for me, please. Demi?”

“I’ll have the same, please. Thank you.”

“Sounds good! Do you know what you’d like to order, or would you like me to give you a moment to go over the menus?”

“We actually haven’t been here before,” I admit. “It’s our first time. We were craving gyros, but what would you recommend?”

“Ooh, virgins!” Demi and I smile at each other over our menus because Rhea has no idea how accurate that statement really is. “I won’t steer you wrong, I promise.”

She launches into a spiel about their most popular dishes, and she flounces away after we order the gyros we came for and souvlaki.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, Demi gives me a sly smile.

“She’s got the hots for you, too.”

“Stop. Not every girl I’ve talked to today is interested in me, Demi. It’s called being nice, and they think I’m friendly or something. No one’s interested in the nerd.”

“Lies. I’m a girl, Theo. I know these things. You don’t see it—and don’t take this the wrong way because I say it objectively since it personally does nothing for me—but you’re hot. Not only that, you’re a genuinely nice guy who also happens to be very smart. You’re a catch, and you need to stop selling yourself short. Women love nerds.”

My cheeks start to burn from her compliments. “St-ststop it, Demi.” Dammit. I groan as soon as the words leave my mouth. Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything else and just gives me a little wink before launching into a story about one of her classes.

Once our food arrives, we chow down in companionable silence, content to enjoy each other’s company. It’s not until Rhea drops o the receipt that I notice her phone number scrawled on the thin slip of paper. Even though she’s nice and pretty, I have no desire to call her. There’s just no spark, and I don’t want to give her the wrong impression. Demi must sense my inner turmoil because as we’re leaving, she makes a show of looping her arm around my waist and laying a noisy kiss on my cheek as she thanks me for lunch. I feel terrible because I can feel Rhea watching, but I’m thankful for Demi stepping in and staking a claim so she won’t feel as bad.

It’s not until we’ve exited the restaurant, the bell tinkling behind us, that Demi says, “Told ya so.”

Needing to give my eyes a break from the strain of staring at my computer screen, I remove my glasses and rub my temples to alleviate the minor ache. I stand up and stretch my limbs as I glance behind me at the clock on the wall. I can’t believe it’s already six o’clock. After lunch with Demi, I went to my remaining classes and decided to hit up the library to get a head start on my assignments for the semester. It’s my first year in the master’s program, and I want to make sure I start o strong. Being awarded a full scholarship for my undergraduate degree was incredible, but getting another one for my graduate studies makes me even more motivated to do well. Receiving a stipend through the teaching and graduate assistantship program has been a huge blessing and unexpected benefit, so keeping my grades up is my full-time job and priority. Just as I’m debating whether to head to the pool to get in one last swim for the day or head home, I hear a soft voice behind me.

“Theo?”

The hairs on my forearms stand on end and goosebumps bloom across my skin at the sound, and I mentally prepare myself before turning around so I don’t end up saying or doing anything embarrassing.

“Hi Addy.” There, that was good. “How’s it going?”

Warring sensations of nervous anticipation and dread battle for dominance as the girl who’s been tormenting my thoughts throughout the day moves closer. I don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t shake her from my thoughts.

Instead of standing a few feet away, she moves into my bubble and stands unnervingly close.

“It’s going. I just got out of my last class and am meeting a friend to get started on some of our online assignments for a class we’re taking together.” She moves a little bit closer and props herself against the edge of the desk I’m using.

“Judging by your things and the fact that we’re in a library, I’m going to assume you’re doing the same?”

Breathe, figure out what I want to say, and speak, I think to myself. This little mantra has helped me control my stutter over the years and prevents me from spitting my words out in a rush, and I know I’m going to need to focus on it now.

“Yeah, I actually just got done studying. My eyes need a break.”

“What do you have planned after?”

“I was thinking of going for a swim, but I might head home. I haven’t decided.”

At my words, her face lights up with interest. “You like to swim?”

I nervously run one of my hands through my hair. “I love to swim. It’s my favorite thing to do.”

“That explains it.” She leans back a little against the desk, and her gaze sweeps over me like a spotlight, burning me with its potency. I can feel my face start to redden as she

continues to blatantly stare at me with a secretive little smile on her face.

“Explains what?” The question tumbles past my lips, and although I kept my voice low, the words almost sound overly loud as they land in the air that’s ripe with possibility.

Instead of answering me right away, she leans in closer.

Up close, her brown eyes remind me of dark, rich co ee. She lifts a hand, and it’s as if time suspends itself as she reaches toward me. My heart rate goes from racing to pounding as soon as I feel her light, delicate touch on my shoulder.

“Your body,” she sighs. “It’s r—” Her words are cut o as her phone starts to buzz loudly, and my brain is trying to figure out what she was about to say. What about my body?

“Damn. I’m sorry, one sec.” She pulls her hand away, and I immediately feel the loss of her touch. I watch as she quickly looks at the screen and sends o a rapid-fire text. “That was my bestie, Camryn. She’s over in one of the study rooms, and she’s waiting for me. I’m sorry to rush o , but it was great seeing you, Theo.”

“Same here.”

“What’re you doing this weekend?”

“Just hanging out.”

“Wanna hang out with me?”

“With y-you?” Oh God, there goes the stutter.

“Yes, silly, with me.” She’s unfazed by my slip up. “I’ll even let you decide what we do. I promise, I’m not picky. I’ll choose the date after that if it makes you feel better.” She gives me a playful smile before she pokes me in the chest.

“What do you say? Can you pick me up at one?”

Did she just ask me out on a date? And she’s already planning more dates? My brain can barely keep up, and I’m having trouble deciding on what piece of information to focus on. I think she asked me a question.

“O-okay. One is good. Th-thank you for asking,” I finally manage to say. Damn stutter. Breathe, figure out what I want to say, and speak. “I’ll need y-your ph-phone number and address, p-please.” Okay, fuck the mantra. It’s not helping at all.

I don’t even have time to be embarrassed because Addy surprises me when her smile widens at my faltering words.

“That has got to be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“My st-stutter?” God, I’m hopeless around this girl.

“Yes, I love it. Can I have your phone, please?” I wordlessly hand it over, and she adds herself as a contact.

“I’ll text you my address. I can’t wait to see you, and I really can’t wait to hear that cute stutter again.”

My lips part in shock, and she gives me a naughty wink as she moves to leave. She maneuvers herself so the distance between us is almost nonexistent, and her body is just shy of brushing against mine as she walks past. When her body is parallel to mine, her hand reaches up again to give my bicep a squeeze, and she leans over to whisper in my ear.

“We’ll have to pick up where we left o on Saturday. Until then, hot stu .” A quick kiss on my cheek follows that parting comment, and I’m left with a hardening dick and red cheeks as she glides away.

I think Demi was right. Screw the pool; I’m going to need a cold shower.

FIVE ADDY

“H EY , sorry I’m late. I brought sustenance, if that makes it better.”

I slide the glass doors to the study room shut and move to take a seat in front of my best friend, Camryn.

“It does, thanks. I was starting to get hangry. Give up the goods!”

“I have a deliciously bad snack and a healthy option, if you’re so inclined. What’s your poison?”

“Are you serious right now?” Camryn’s deadpan expression has me breaking out in laughter. “Do you not know me at all?”

“I was kidding, you little junk food whore,” I tell her a ectionately. “You better share. I’m not really craving anything healthy either.”

Camryn groans once she sees what I’ve brought. “You bitch, you know the way to my heart.” Her harsh words are o set by the smile on her face. “Salted caramel brownie brittle is my favorite.”

“I know. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Yeah, you’re contributing to my waistline.”

“Oh, stop. You’re gorgeous.” And she is. She’s short and full-figured, and she rocks the hell out of her curves. She has me wishing my metabolism would slow down so I can have a

little more padding. “I don’t want to hear otherwise, and I know Gio would agree with me.”

Giuseppe, a ectionately known as Gio, is her long-term boyfriend, and he can’t get enough of her body. She must see the wisdom in my words because she just gives a soft smile and reaches for another piece. We sit and eat in silence for a few moments, both of us enjoying our greatest guilty pleasure, before my intuitive bestie gets right to the point.

“So, who’s the guy?”

My hand pauses as it reaches for another piece of the good stu . “What guy?”

“Oh, come on. You’re annoyingly punctual; being late isn’t your MO. Spill the deets, girlfriend.”

“Fine. He’s the TA in my mythology class.”

“The mythology class with Wilder?” She leans forward, her eyes wide with interest.

“That’s the one.”

“Time. Out.” Her hands make the signal to match her words. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about him. Is Wilder as smokin’ hot as everyone says he is? I swear, every girl I talk to knows someone who knows someone who has seen him, but you’re the first person I know who’s actually seen him.”

“He’s hotter than the rumors, Camryn,” I admit, and she gasps in surprise. “It’s not fair how sexy the guy is, but he isn’t my personal cup of tea. He just seems really, for lack of a better word, intense.”

“I need to walk you to class one day so I can see this for myself. You said he’s hotter than the rumors?” I nod in answer. “Damn.” She shakes her head in disbelief before getting the conversation back on track. “Okay, so his TA must be something special to catch your attention when you’re being taught by a man who’s basically a walking orgasm.”

“Theo, well, there’s just something about him I’m super drawn to. I just met the guy, so my interactions with him have been super limited, but he’s already a refreshing change from the guys I’m usually into. He’s this adorkably sweet combination of nerdy and shy, but he’s got this insanely hot swimmer’s body he doesn’t flaunt. He’s like the boy next door who got hot but doesn’t know it.”

I give her a description of what he looks like, and she fans her face.

“He’s smart, wears glasses, and has the body of Michael Phelps? So, he’s basically an aquatic Clark Kent?”

“Basically.”

“You sure he’s not one of those hipster types? You know, the kind of guy who wears non-prescription lenses and manages to look homeless-chic? Or does he wear suspenders and pocket protectors? I’ve got it!” Her eyes twinkle with excitement as she leans in. “If you were to cast him in one of those teen movies we loved in the early 2000s, which table would he sit at?”

I snort at the image her words have conjured, but I know exactly what she’s talking about. I take a moment to figure out where he’d fit in.

“He’d be the quiet guy who sat by himself, or he’d have a few close friends he’d spend time with. I’m telling you, he doesn’t give o any hipster vibes. His glasses look legit—like thick lenses and slight squinting when he took them o legit.

He also seems a little reserved, which makes we want to break him out of his shell. And I know I said he seemed nerdy, but stop stereotyping to that degree. We aren’t casting for a teen movie with cliques, so regardless of what table he’d sit at, he’s just hot. So hot,” I emphasize.

“Ugh! I guess I need to meet him, too. He sounds like a living, breathing nerdgasm.”

An incredulous laugh bursts forth at her words. “I’m sorry, but what?”

“A nerdgasm! It’s like having an orgasm from his nerdiness, which is fitting since it sounds like he’s a nerdy wet dream.”

I shake my head at her words. “That actually kind of makes sense. Nerdgasm,” I hu out on another laugh.

“And you just met him today?”

“Yeah, I literally ran into him before class.” I cringe as I remember slamming into him and running away. I relay the story to Camryn, who just laughs at me. “I was formally introduced to him after class, and then I saw him on the way here. He was studying, and I couldn’t help but walk over and say hi. He’s taking me out on Saturday,” I admit, and I can’t stop the excitement from creeping into my voice.

“You asked him out, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. It’s the 21st-century, and he isn’t like other guys I’ve dated. I like that he’s shy, but I decided to help him out and give him a little push.”

“I wish I was as forward as you,” she says, envy evident in her voice.

“You can be, you just need to put yourself out there. I know Gio would love it if you took control every once in awhile.” I raise my eyebrows and shimmy my shoulders, and she throws an eraser at me.

“I’ll think about it, you perv. So, where are you guys going on Saturday?”

“I’m not sure. I told him I’d leave that up to him. I have a feeling he’ll surprise me, and I’m really looking forward to it.”

“I am, too. I expect a full rundown of this date. It’s been too long since you’ve hit the dating scene, what with focusing on school and all, and he sounds like a really nice guy. You need nice.”

I think of some of the guys I dated when I first started college and grimace. Yeah, they were good-looking, but they were total frat guys who were more into the party scene than they were into me. “I’m excited to see what happens.”

“Samesies, girlfriend. Now,” she claps her hands together and dusts the brownie brittle crumbs from her fingers.

“Let’s get to studying. We’d better get caught up so you don’t have to worry about this scholastic shit on your date.”

“You got it.” I chuckle.

We pull up our assignments and get to work, and I smile the entire time because I’ve got Theo and our date on Saturday on my mind.

THEO “Demi!” I shout as I fling the door to our apartment open. “I need help!”

The door slams shut behind me as I throw my bag on the ground, kick o my shoes, and dash inside. I’ve only taken a few steps when I see Demi rushing into view from the kitchen, wielding the spatula in her grasp like a weapon.

“What?!” she shouts, concern dominating her tone.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have a date on Saturday.”

“You have a date? On Saturday?” Her voice trails o as realization, surprise, and then elation dawn on her face. “Oh, my God! You have a date! On Saturday! With who? Wait.” She holds up her hand, halting me just as I’m about to answer.

“It’s with Addy, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You were right.”

“Ah, music to my ears. I’m so excited for you, Theo!”

“I’m n-not! I don’t date. I need h-help. See!” I gesture to myself, referencing how my nerves are showing in my stutter.

“I get it, you’re nervous. It’s going to be okay, though.

Come over here, and tell me how this all came about. Start at the beginning, please.”

I take a seat at one of our barstools looking into the kitchen and launch into my run-in with Addy at the library while Demi cooks dinner.

“And that’s it,” I say as I wrap up my story. “Now I’m here, and I have no clue what to do. I don’t date often, Demi.”

“I like this girl. She’s forward, and I can dig that.” She contemplates her next words as she serves us both a plate of pasta and garlic bread. “I know you don’t date, Theo, but you’re about to start.” She smiles at me over a forkful of food. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, though.”

“Why not?” The worry starts to set in in earnest now. I haven’t been on a date in years, and I don’t want to mess things up.

“I’m sure you’ve got some great ideas floating around in that head of yours, you just need to find them. My only piece of advice is this: do something where you can get to know each other, and make it thoughtful. I’m by no means an expert since I’ve only been on a few dates myself, but don’t be so afraid of stuttering that you clam up. And don’t go see a movie, ‘cause that’s a cop-out date!”

She points menacingly at me with her fork, and I hold up my hands in assent.

“Okay, no movie. Stop using our cutlery as weapons,” I joke. “What...” I start, and the words are hard to get out.

“What if she kisses me?”

“Then you kiss her back. Duh.”

“I know that, but…” I feel my cheeks burn, and I realize I’ve blushed more today than I have in my entire lifetime.

“What if I’m a bad kisser?” I whisper in embarrassment.

Demi and I were each other’s first kiss as kids—chalk it up to curiosity and wanting to get it out of the way with someone comfortable and familiar—but we both have very limited experience kissing the opposite sex now that we’re adults. While she’s gone on a handful of dates, I haven’t had a girlfriend since high school. Even then, we weren’t together very long because she was more interested in trying to change me to fit in, so it’s not like I’ve had a lot of practice kissing.

Demi doesn’t answer right away, and she takes a moment to think as she looks at me.

“I don’t think you could be,” she simply says. “Granted, we were only little kids when we kissed that one time, and I don’t have a lot of experience outside of that.” She shoots me a mischievous smile, and it immediately puts me at ease.

“But I swear I’m not just trying to ease your mind. A few guys kissed me on dates before, and they were terrible.” She shudders at the memory. “Too much tongue or spit or not enough e ort trying to find out how you should kiss together. In general, you’re really good at taking your time, so just try and do that with kissing. There’s no need to rush.

Besides, you have really nice lips.” She blushes at her words.

“Ew, I can’t believe I just said that. But don’t take that the wrong way, okay?” she warns threateningly.

I smile at her words and can’t help but tease her. “You’ve got really nice lips too, Demi.” She really does, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.

She groans into her hands, and it’s clear she’s the one who’s embarrassed now. “Okay, moving on. I’ll be your sounding board. What ideas do you have for Saturday? Let’s wow this girl.”

We spend the next hour brainstorming ideas, and I feel confidence slowly replace my anxiety. By the time I finally crawl into bed and start to drift o to sleep, I’ve got a smile on my face. Only one more day and a wake up until Saturday.

SIX THEO

I T ’ S FINALLY S ATURDAY , which means it’s the day I finally get to take Addy out. I may have only met her a couple days ago, but the anticipation over today has made time pass slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter. I have less than two hours until I have to pick her up, and it feels like this last stretch of time is moving backward. I busy myself by making sure I’ve got what I need for our date, and I feel intense relief that it’s beautiful out. The sun is out, the sky is clear, and the forecast shows today’s high will peak at an above average temperature for this time of year. It may be out of the norm, but I’ll take it in hopes it bodes well for how things will go today.

My cell chimes with an incoming text, so I check the screen and see Addy asking me what type of clothing she should wear. I reply honestly and advise her to wear something comfortable. A moment passes, and she texts me her address. I text back saying I’ll see her soon, and then I blink in surprise to see that she doesn’t live too far from me; it’s easily a ten minute drive or less. Double checking the time, I hop in the shower to clean up. Once I’m out and looking through my closet, I realize I’m not sure what I should wear. Following the advice I gave her to dress comfortably, I grab one of my favorite pairs of worn jeans, a

solid blue t-shirt in Superman blue, and a red flannel, longsleeved shirt in a material that’s light enough to not stifle me but thick enough to add warmth should I need it.

I’m rolling up the sleeves of the flannel as I walk out of my bedroom when I see Demi. She’s camped out on the couch with a chunky knit blanket and her ereader. She turns in my direction when she hears me, and she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Lookin’ good, Theo! I like the comfy casual look you’ve got going on.” She gestures in a circular motion in my direction, and I look down at myself as I turn around in a circle.

“Are you sure? Should I change?”

“No,” she sco s. “For what you have planned today, that’s perfect. You look great, but you don’t look like you spent longer getting ready than a girl would, and you also don’t look like someone who didn’t put in any e ort. I promise, you hit a really good balance.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“As you should.” She tosses her blanket over her legs and makes her way over. Once she’s in front of me, she reaches out and grabs the collar of my shirt. As she refolds and fixes it, she gives me her pep talk. “Remember, just be yourself. If you stutter, it’s no big deal. She already thinks it’s adorable, which it is. If you want to kiss her, you’ll know when the time is right. And if you need me to bail you out, call me.”

I feel a smirk forming at her words. “I thought only women did that emergency phone call thing on dates.”

“Yeah, well, you never know. You might need it, but I have a feeling that won’t be the case. You’re going to have a great time, and so is she.”

“Thanks, Demi.” She walks me to the door, and the nerves start to kick in full force as I’m lacing up my Chucks.

“I hope she likes what we planned and doesn’t think it’s lame.”

“She’ll love it,” she reassures me. “If she doesn’t, she isn’t worth your time. If she’s not into it, you already know I’ll go in her place. You’re my bestie, and I’ll always have your back.”

I smile my gratitude and pull her in for a hug before I step out the door. “Same to you. Thanks again for all your help, Demi. I’ll see you later tonight.”

Surprise rolls through me when I feel her slap my ass just as I’m stepping over the threshold. “Go get ‘em, tiger. I can’t wait to hear all the details. Have fun!”

We’re both laughing when I hear the door shut behind me, and I head to my car with a spring in my step, the nerves held temporarily at bay.

The short drive is over before I completely mentally prepare myself, and my pre-date jitters are back in full force. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until it suddenly leaves my lungs in a rush once Addy answers the door of the townhouse she shares with her friends.

She’s e ortlessly beautiful, and her blinding smile makes my heart kick in my chest. I give her a onceover to make sure she’s dressed comfortably, and a grin breaks across my face when I glimpse a pair of Chucks that match mine. My eyes track upward, and I notice the shorts she’s wearing showcase her long legs to perfection. Hope and relief wash over me when I realize she’s wearing a The Walking Dead tshirt; without meaning to, she’s unknowingly made it so she’ll fit right in on our date.

“You l-look great.”

“Thanks, Clark Kent. So do you.”

Did this girl just make a Superman reference to me? Score.

My excitement ratchets up at the small possibility that she might be a closet nerd.

“Thank you. You ready to go?”

“Yep! I’m all yours, hot stu . What are you going to do with me now that you’ve got me?”

She closes the door behind her and locks up, and I’m thankful she can’t see the blush I’m sure is painting my cheeks.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

She turns back to look at me, and her eyes are glittering with curiosity. “Oh, so it’s a surprise? I seriously love surprises.” She moves toward me, and I’m pleasantly surprised when she reaches over and wraps her hand around my arm as we walk to my car. Her body heat seeps into me, and the gentle pressure she’s placing on my bicep is making it a little di cult to think.

“I h-hope you like this one.”

“I’m sure I will, Theo. Thanks for taking me out.” She gives me a playful bump with her shoulder before I open the passenger door for her. “And thank you for getting my door.”

“Of course. My mother practically beat into me that a gentleman always opens the door for a lady.” I shut the door when I see her grin and make my way around the car.

The drive is a short one, and we spend the ten minutes catching each other up on school and making small talk.

Soon enough, the scenery outside has Addy raising her eyebrows in interest.

“What are we doing at Ithaca College?”

We’ve just passed through the college’s entrance, and I take my time responding as I drive us along the main campus road and toward a parking lot.

“Well.” I take in a deep breath. The moment of truth has arrived. “We’re here for IthaCon.” “You brought me to IthaCon?” “Yes. Have you heard of Comic-Con?” With a smile and an eye roll she says, “Everyone’s heard of Comic-Con.” A nervous laugh escapes me. “Well, this is Ithaca’s Comic-Con. I have a pair of VIP passes. I hope that’s okay.”

Beats of silence pass as she looks back out the window.

Dread chills the pit of my stomach as I start to worry that I’ve epically messed up and done something weird. I finally park, and just when I convince myself she hates this date and is trying to find a way to ask me to take her back home, she turns to me.

“Theo. It’s not okay. I need you to be straight with me, you got it?” Her expression is serious, and I’m waiting for her to tell me this was a huge mistake. I swallow and nod, the words lodged in my throat. At my gesture, her face transforms right before my eyes. Excitement takes over, and I can hear the eagerness saturate her voice as she practically shouts her next words. “This is amazing! I’ve been dying to go to IthaCon for months, but tickets sold out before I could buy any. How on earth did you get VIP tickets?!”

Gobsmacked. I’m feeling gobsmacked right now. I might have to marry this girl one day.

ADDY This is going to be the best. Date. Ever.

Ever.

I knew Theo was going to surprise me, but boy, this guy doesn’t disappoint. I’m used to being carted o to movies or

mini golf on first dates, so I am completely floored to find out IthaCon is on the table for today. I’m pretty sure his jaw has unhinged itself from shock at my excitement, and it takes him a minute to gather his thoughts before he can even tell me how he got ahold of VIP passes.

“D-Demi and I go every year and get first d-dibs on VIP passes. She gave me her ticket for our date.”

“Oh, my gosh. I feel terrible for taking her ticket!” Kind of. Part of me feels terrible, but a larger part of me is about to pass out from excitement and a lingering sense of disbelief. “How much do I owe her?”

Theo sco s at my question and waves it o . “Nothing.

This is a date. And don’t feel terrible. She doesn’t mind, and she is more than happy to hold me to a future favor. If I’m being honest, she’s probably more excited about that.” He gives a rueful smile, but even though he’s poking fun at her, the a ection is clear in his voice.

I’m going to send her a gift basket or get her a really sweet souvenir today to show my thanks. I tell this to Theo, and he gives me a look of surprise.

“You don’t need to do that. I was already planning on doing that; if you’d like, we can pick something out for her together. I still can’t believe you’re excited. I was worried you wouldn’t like this.”

I stare at him for a moment, my mouth hanging agape.

“Are you kidding? You chose the perfect date. If you can’t tell by my t-shirt, The Walking Dead is my ultimate guilty pleasure. I saw Norman Reedus, the guy who plays Daryl, is going to be here today. Just a heads up,” I warn as I finally move to unbuckle my seat belt, “I’m going to fangirl all over the place. That guy is a badass.”

Theo follows suit with a smile, and we exit his car. I skip ahead in my eagerness, and it’s not until I’m a few yards away I realize he isn’t beside me. A quick glance over my

shoulder shows he’s strolling along at a leisurely pace, a soft smile on his lips as he watches me. I feel an answering tug in the vicinity of my heart as I watch him watch me. Not only that, my mouth waters a little as I take in the long, lean lines of his body moving toward me. I blink a few times and force my mind to put that thought on hold because I’m about to go bananas at IthaCon. I skip back to Theo and grab his hand to lace our fingers together, which seems to catch him o guard because his luscious lips part as he looks down to where our hands are clasped in wonder. He is so adorkable.

Leaning in and stretching toward him on my tippy toes since he’s so tall, I whisper, “C’mon, hot stu . Let’s go get our nerd on.”

His answering grin is all I see before I spin around and practically drag him to Campus Center and follow the signs to Phillips Hall where all the fun awaits us.

For hours we explore all the di erent retailers and exhibits, and we even hit up a few panels. I spend an ungodly amount on TWD merch, and we both pick out some great Harry Potter souvenirs for Demi since that’s her thing. I also feel an enormous sense of glee when Theo completely geeks the hell out over anything Marvel and DC. There are a few instances walking around where we have to stop some expert-level cosplayers and take photos with them because they look legit. Although we’re surrounded by so much to see and take in, we still manage to hold a delightfully easy conversation that’s a fun mix of nerd trivia and personal information.

“So, what do you want to do next?” I ask as I try on an Iron Man mask. “What do you think?” I cock my hip out and gesture toward my face.

A throaty laugh is what I get in response, and the butterflies that have been fluttering around in my stomach all day take flight. “You’re way s-sexier than Iron Man.” A

faint blush accompanies his words, as if he’s startled by his admission, and he rushes to answer my first question. “I thought we could check out another panel. Twisted Tunes is one of my favorites, and I think you’ll like it.”

“Twisted Tunes? I’ve never heard of it.”

“C’mon. You’re in for a treat.”

He grabs my hand and leads me toward one of the large auditoriums where it’s held, and warm fuzzies fill my chest at his rising comfort level with me. It feels so natural to be with him, and even though we just met, I feel like we’ve known each other for years. We just click, and I’ve never felt such a strong pull toward another person.

We luck out when it comes to seating because we get a great spot in the center of the second row. I take advantage of the confined space and lean in close so our bodies are touching from shoulders to knees.

“So, what’s Twisted Tunes all about?” I murmur into his ear.

“Basically, v-voice actors and s-sometimes regular actors will r-read from a book or script in the v-voices of popular characters.”

“Oh, that sounds cool.” Instead of pulling back, I stay pressed against him, savoring the warmth between us.

Theo nods in response just as one of the event hosts walks up on stage. “Hello, and welcome to IthaCon! I hope you’re all having a fabulous time. I know I am! Who’s ready for Twisted Tunes?” Thunderous applause and cheers from the crowd fill the room. “That’s what I thought! Let’s get things started!”

A bunch of people whose names I don’t recognize take the stage and are introduced. In lieu of regular introductions, they say hi to the crowd as some of the characters they voice, which is really cool. There are six voice actors on stage, but there’s still an empty seat at the end of the panel. Before I

can wonder overlong on who will take the final seat, the host speaks again.

“We also have a surprise guest joining us today. Before I introduce them, I want to introduce today’s story that our lovely panel will be reading to us today. For your listening pleasure, today’s Twisted Tunes panel is Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back!” More cheers from the crowd. “And joining us on this journey is none other than Norman Reedus!”

My mind blanks for a second, and then I’m screaming along with the rest of the crowd. “Oh, my God!! Norman, I love you. I FREAKING LOVE YOU!!” rips out of my mouth before I can run it through the filter in my brain. I clap my hand over my lips in surprise and turn to Theo to see his reaction at my outburst. Instead of pretending he doesn’t know my crazy ass, he’s laughing so hard that he needs to remove his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes.

The laughter doesn’t stop there, either. I’m pretty sure I bust a seam—or, if I’m being honest, pee myself a little—at the hilarity that ensues as the panel launches into their reading of Star Wars. Their vocal imitations of Cartman from South Park, Christopher Walken, Morgan Freeman, and other beloved voices is impressive, and the crowd goes insane. My cheeks hurt from laughing by the time the reading is through, and I’m worried I’ve tracked makeup down my face from the tears of laughter I cried. At this point, though, I don’t care because I’ve never had so much fun on a date with a guy. Then again, I can’t say I’m surprised.

We spend the rest of the day attending a few more panels and revisiting the booths again before heading o to dinner.

I’m exhausted and satisfied by the end of our date. Ever the gentleman, Theo walks me to my door with our hands linked; the contact between us is easy after the day we’ve had, and I’m reluctant to say bye.

“Would you like to come in? My roommates went to a party, so I know they’ll be home late.” I look up at him, willing him to say yes and come inside. Now that we’re truly alone, my fatigue takes a back seat. All I can really think about now is getting my hands on him. “We can finish our conversation from the library,” I cajole gently, hoping to entice him.

“Oh?” He sounds interested, and a brief second passes before he replies. “Sure, I can come in for a little.”

I want to fist pump the air in triumph, but I manage to restrain myself. Nervous anticipation swirls in my belly as I unlock my door, his tall presence at my back, and lead him into my kitchen.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Just a water, please.”

Theo looks larger than life in my space, his tall frame leaning casually against the counter, but his sweet, unsure smile is going to be the death of me. I grab a bottled water from the fridge and make my way over, pressing my body close to his as I hand it to him.

“Now, where were we?”

“W-what do you mean?”

He must be nervous; I love how I have this a ect on him.

“I told you we could finish our conversation from the library.” Recognition, followed quickly by curiosity, lights up his expression. “If I recall correctly, you told me about how much you love swimming, and I was just about to tell you about your body before we were interrupted.”

“M-my…” He takes a deep gulp and swallows, and his words come out slightly strangled. “My b-body?”

“Mmhmm,” I murmur. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on by a guy with so little e ort; we haven’t even done anything yet. It’s a heady feeling to be the pursuer in this moment, especially since I’ve never been so forward with a

guy before, and seeing him so flustered has my hands itching to touch him. More than that though, I’d love to finally feel his plush lips against mine. If I’m lucky, Theo will want me as badly as I want him.

SEVEN THEO

M Y PULSE POUNDS loudly in my ears as the blood rushes through my veins like a tsunami. Any remaining blood is at risk of quickly traveling south when Addy continues to press closer to me, invading my space with her sweet scent.

“Your body,” she finally clarifies when she makes contact, “is ridiculous.” I can feel the heat from this point of contact through my clothing, and I have to start thinking of homeless orphans, poverty, and wrinkly penises to stop myself from getting hard when her fingers drag a slow, purposeful path from shoulder to shoulder and down the center of my chest and stomach. “Ridiculous in the best possible way.” Her words come out as an almost inaudible whisper, but my straining ears pick them up as clearly as if she were yelling. The inquisitive pressure of her fingers stops when she hits my belly button, and she retraces her path back up to the base of my throat before finally pulling away. “I should’ve guessed you were a swimmer as soon as I saw your broad shoulders.”

I don’t know how I manage it, but words tumble past my lips. “So you’re only going out with me for my body?” I quip, and it’s an utter miracle I don’t stutter.

I was already struggling for breath when she was touching me, but that and all coherent thought e ectively

leaves me when she gives me an unabashedly sexy smile that still manages to come o as shy. For the first time ever, a girl is looking at me with unmasked desire, and I’m not sure what to do. I don’t have a second to even think of what I should do because Addy answers me.

“Of course not. Your body comes in fourth place when it comes to things I really like about you.”

“Only f-fourth?” My voice is filled with mock incredulity.

“Should I be o ended?”

She’s still right in front of me, and although we’re no longer touching, our heads are angled so close together I can see the to ee-colored flecks in her dark brown eyes.

“Not at all,” she breathes in a low voice, her tone serious.

“First, I like your personality.” She places her hand over my heart before moving it to the top of my head, where she lightly rakes her fingers through my close-cropped hair.

Addy is really touchy, not that I’m complaining; I’m starting to crave her touch more than the next Marvel or DC movie.

“Second, I like this smart brain of yours. Third,” she whispers, and I pitch my head farther down in an e ort to hear her better. “I really, really like your lips.”

“My l-lips?” My cheeks flush in pleasure and embarrassment, and my heart kicks violently when her fingers move to my mouth.

I realize keeping my hard-on at bay is futile when she lightly scrapes her nail along my lower lip, and all this talk of lips has my eyes zeroing in on hers. They’re full and a pale coral-pink, and any blood left in my brain travels below my belt when I see her pink tongue peek out and slowly lick them. I’m almost painfully hard at this point, and I really want to kiss her.

“Th-thank you, Addy.”

“Mmhmm.” Her voice sounds drowsy, and she’s still staring at my mouth. “Theo?”

“Mmhmm?”

She finally drags her eyes up to mine. “I’d really like you to kiss me now, please.”

Instead of answering her with words, I reach up and gently cup her jaw with both hands, my thumbs tracing the plump outline of her lips as I lean down. I move toward her slowly, my breath ghosting over her parted mouth. Time has slowed, and the thump-thump-thump of my heart is like a steady drumbeat as I move closer until my lips finally touch hers.

Although adrenaline spikes through my body at the contact, I’m gentle as I taste her, taking my time like Demi advised. I’ve never been as physically aware of someone as I am with Addy, and it feels as if my senses have been heightened as I’m flooded with sensation.

The petal-soft texture of her lips, and the satiny feel of her skin against my fingertips.

The heady scent of her citrusy shampoo tickling my nostrils.

The warmth of her body as she steps between my legs and presses herself against my chest.

The sight of her upturned face, downcast lashes, and dreamy smile when I momentarily pull away.

The faint gasp of delight when I lean back in for more, and the dulcet sound of a moan trapped in her throat when I don’t stop.

The sweet taste of her when I lick into her mouth gently, savoring her as I gradually and unhurriedly deepen the kiss.

Our tongues tangle slowly as we learn each other’s touch, and I savor the feeling of her hands as they start to roam over the body she was praising earlier. Eventually, Addy pulls away slightly and takes a deep, shuddering breath that simultaneously sounds like an awe-filled sigh.

“You’re shaking,” she whispers as she opens her eyes, and I am.

I think it’s a combination of nerves, desire, and the stillpresent adrenaline coursing through me. I definitely don’t feel in control—which is why my stutter is more pronounced —but it’s a good kind of loss of control.

“S-so are you,” I whisper back when I feel her body tremble under my touch.

“I want you, Theo. Would you like to spend the night? We don’t have to go all the way,” she clarifies, “but I’d like you to stay a little longer. We can see where the night leads.”

Her direct words and their meaning aren’t lost on me, and she sees just how much they a ect me when she moves in and lightly brushes up against my hard-on with her lower body. For a moment I fear my dick is going to punch through my jeans and beg for more contact. Fighting my body’s screaming plea, I give her a quick peck before I move away and force some space between us.

“I want you, too,” I admit. I see confusion cloud her gaze, and I quickly answer the unspoken but I know she’s wondering about. I don’t want her to think I’m rejecting her.

“Which is why I should leave. I respect you, and I want to take things slow. Is that okay?”

A blank look is all I get in answer for a moment before a sweet smile breaks across her face like a sunrise. “Yes, that’s more than okay. Thank you, Theo.”

“For what?”

“For respecting me. For not being like a lot of guys who would’ve just taken me up on my o er. I swear, I’m usually not so forward.” She laughs and runs a hand through her hair. “There’s just something about you. You make me feel special.”

I grin and pull her in for a tight hug. “That’s because you are.”

We embrace for a moment before I gently kiss her on the top of her head and leave. I walk to my car and drive home in a dreamlike state, the promise we made to see each other soon filling my heart with a lightness I’ve only managed to feel when I’m in the sanctuary of a swimming pool.

Addy and I deliver on our promise to see each other outside of class as often as possible, and the next several weeks are peppered with a variety of dates that allow us to get to know one another while also taking advantage of the crisp fall weather. I feel like I should remember the sights and scenery, but all I’ll ever be able to recall is Addy and what I’ve learned about her so far.

When we went hiking to Ithaca Falls and Cayuga Lake, I learned she can’t swim—a fact I plan on remedying—but that she loves the outdoors. It was also refreshing to learn she isn’t afraid of bugs like most girls I’ve met.

When we went to a local winery, I learned she can’t hold her alcohol to save her life but that she is very, very friendly when she’s tipsy. I thought she was handsy before, but tipsy Addy sprouts octopus arms, and it was a challenge to keep her hands from traveling too far south.

When we went to pick apples at an orchard, I got up close and personal with her playful side when she made me jump into a pile of leaves with her. I was an itchy mess and ended up finding leaves in my sweater when I got home that night, but hearing her shrieks of uninhibited laughter trumped any discomfort.

We’re currently at Cornell’s McGraw Tower, trekking up the stairs to take a look at the stars while the Cornell Chimes play. The twenty-one bells housed in the tower are the most played set of bells on any college campus, and I thought

Addy was going to swoon from how romantic it sounded when I asked if she wanted to come.

A small smile tilts my lips up as I remember our previous dates. Not only that, but the view I have right now can’t be beat. I have an uninhibited view of her butt since she’s walking ahead of me, and the gentle sway of her hips as she takes each step has me hypnotized. Thank God for yoga pants.

“I freakin’ hate cardio,” Addy wheezes miserably, interrupting my reminiscent thoughts and admiring gaze.

“Hate. It.” “You didn’t have a problem with cardio when we went hiking,” I remind her.

“That’s not cardio,” she insists. “I don’t have enough air going to my brain at the moment to tell you how they’re di erent, but trust me, they are. Also,” she pauses and takes a deep breath, “I’m not your friend right now.”

“What? Why?” “Because.” She breathes heavily, struggling for breath.

“You’re not even winded.”

“I have my swimming obsession to thank for that. I’m happy to teach you sometime.”

“Maybe.” Deep breath. “Why’d I agree to do this again?”

“Because it’s romantic and a Cornell staple.”

“Fuck staples,” she wheezes.

I stifle the laugh I can feel building at her words. “Should we head back?” I can’t keep the teasing note from my voice.

She grunts in answer, and I follow along for a few more steps. Her pace has slowed down considerably, but I don’t mind taking as long as she needs to reach the top. If she wants to head back down, we can, but I’ll miss my view. I’m stuck staring at her butt again and almost run into her when she stops abruptly. I halt in my tracks so I don’t topple us over.

She turns around and faces me with an expression filled with dread. “How many steps have we gone? I know you’ve been counting. We’ve got to be close, right? I really want to hear the chimes play.”

We both look down and check the time; we have another fifteen minutes until the concert starts.

She won’t like my answer because I’m about to dash any lingering hope she has. I feel terrible, but I already have a plan forming to assuage my guilt. “We’re seventy-three steps in.”

“And how many steps are there?”

“From where you’re standing? One hundred and sixtyone,” I say without skipping a beat. “Eighty-eight more to go.”

“Stop!” she gasps. “You’re standing on a pile of lies, Theo. That’s not even halfway! That’ll take me forever.”

Her playful words and very real outrage at how many steps we have left makes me chuckle. “I’m not lying.”

With a frustrated hu , she leans her back against the wall and rests her hip against the handrail. “I don’t mean to be a whiny cow, but I didn’t think stargazing would be such a pain in the butt to execute.”

I wordlessly walk up a few of the steps separating us but make sure to leave some space between us. I turn around and speak over my shoulder.

“You’re not a whiny cow. Now, hop on,” I say, holding out my arms to my sides so she knows I intend to give her a piggyback ride.

Silence greets me, and I can practically feel her thoughts.

“You are not going to carry me eighty-eight steps up this tower, Theo. You’ll get tired. I’m too heavy.”

I sco at her words as politely as possible. “I won’t get tired, and you’re not too heavy. You’re tiny. Trust me, my stamina is better than you think.”

She makes a sound between a garbled sigh and slight intake of breath, which shouldn’t even be possible. I don’t have time to think about what it could mean because I feel the heat of her at my back. She touches my shoulders and presses herself close, and I can’t help but wonder if this is a mistake. As long as she keeps her hands to herself, we should be fine and won’t tumble to our deaths.

“I trust you. Just don’t drop me.”

Her hands run over my shoulders before they loop around my neck and clasp across my chest. I squat, reach down, and grab her thighs. As I straighten, I hoist her farther up my back until we’re both comfortable.

“N-never,” I promise. “Now, since I’m doing the cardio for the two of us, all the talking is up to you.”

She laughs at me because as it stands, she does most of the talking anyways. “That won’t be a problem. What do you want me to talk about?”

I start taking the steps and make sure to stick to the handrail as a guide. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m not interesting,” she says softly into my ear, and I can hear a tinge of insecurity in her voice.

“I disagree. I think you’re p-plenty interesting.” My words reek of honesty, and I think she knows this because she doesn’t naysay me. “What don’t I know about you so far?” I pause and think. After a few steps, I add, “What’s your family like? What were you like in high school? How do you like college so far? Anything, really. I just want to kknow y-you.”

“You’re so sweet. Thank you.” She tops her sweet whisper o with a quick kiss to the side of my neck, and I feel my skin burn hotly at the contact. “Let’s see...I’m an only child with a bunch of big, burly male cousins. I didn’t have the chance to wonder what having a sibling might be like because we spent a lot of time together growing up. My

family is huge and loud and crazy. It’s probably why I’m so forthright; you kind of have to be around my family if you want to be heard.”

“Well, that explains a lot.”

“Hey!” She playfully smacks my chest.

“I didn’t say it was a b-bad thing. I like how you go for what you w-want.”

“Like you?”

My face colors at her words, and I’m glad she can’t see my goofy expression. “Exactly. What else?”

“I was super involved in high school. I got good grades, but I really enjoyed a lot of the extracurricular activities. I was a cheerleader and played volleyball all four years, and I was on our student council as well. My specialty was event planning, and I was in charge of tying up all the loose ends for school functions and what not. I realized that’s what I love to do, which is why I’m studying communications and public relations.”

I think about her outgoing, take-charge personality. “I can definitely see that. I bet you were homecoming and prom queen.”

Her uncharacteristic silence confirms my suspicions before she speaks. “Maybe.”

“I knew it,” I say on a laugh. “It sounds like you were popular.”

She doesn’t disagree with me. “What were you like in high school?”

I take a moment to respond because I’m not sure how much I want to reveal. I don’t want her to pity me if I tell her I was picked on, so I keep it vague.

“I was the opposite. With the exception of the swim team and a super secret comic book club, I wasn’t really involved in school activities. I love learning, so class was always fun. I definitely wasn’t homecoming or prom king,” I joke. “I love

college a lot more. I like the independence and freedom we get.”

She hugs me tightly as I continue to carry her upstairs.

“College is great,” she agrees. “I learned early on I need to stay focused. When I first started, I was all over the place; I took classes that didn’t meet my degree requirements, which is why I’m in Wilder’s intro class now. I also dated some duds who were more focused on having a good time with their bros than having a good time with me. I figured early on I’m more of a long-term thinker, so I’ve been trying to balance a social life with my girlfriends and closing out this semester before graduation on a good note.”

“Makes sense. Those duds you dated were crazy for not wanting to spend time with you.”

She nuzzles into the back of my neck, and I can feel her smile. “Thank you. It all worked out because I met you.”

I give her an answering smile she can’t see, and we trek up the rest of the way in companionable silence. If I’m being honest, I take advantage of our closeness and go slower than I normally would. Once we reach the top, I set her down and feel warmth spread across my chest at her look of awe.

“They weren’t kidding. This has got to be the best view on campus.”

She looks all around us at the school and grounds, which look tiny from up here amidst the fall foliage, before tilting her head back to look up at the sky. She’s gorgeous, and I know I have the best view on campus. However, I don’t vocalize this thought because I’ve seen too many chick flicks with Demi where the guy says something similar, and I’m not about to be the guy that uses recycled lines from movies on this unique, wonderful girl.

She turns to look at me, and she holds out her hand with the softest smile. I lace my fingers with hers and move toward her until we’re pressed against each other, enjoying

each other’s touch. There are people around us—other couples and people by themselves with cameras—and I avert my eyes when I see more than a few pairings making out heavily in the shadows of the tower.

Addy must see the same thing because she turns in my arms and looks up at me with a playful twinkle in her eye.

“I think,” she starts, “to get the full experience of this particular campus staple, we should do as our fellow locals do.” She gestures with her head toward the kissing couples and raises her eyebrows meaningfully.

I can’t help but poke fun at her. “I thought you said to ffuck staples?”

Her hands glide up my chest and loop around my neck, pulling my head down.

“I changed my mind,” she breathes against my lips.

I close the distance between us just as the chimes being to play, and she sighs dreamily as our lips make contact. I couldn’t begin to tell you what songs are played because between my pounding heart and the rustling of the wind around us, we’re making our own melody, and it’s the sweetest I’ve ever heard.

EIGHT THEO

A DDY ’ S TAKEN up residence in my thoughts, and I don’t want her to leave. I should be grading assignments, but the stack in front of me isn’t as appealing as thinking about how I feel when I lay my lips on hers— “Get that dopey look o your face, Theo. If that’s how you look in class, I can pretty much guarantee no students are taking you seriously.”

“Hello to you too, Demi.” I fight the urge to wipe a hand over my face as I watch her sit across from me at my favorite study table in the library. “For the record, the students in Wilder’s class take me very seriously.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” she says as she makes herself comfortable and arranges her books and laptop to her liking. “Your face says it all. You’ve got it bad, my friend.”

I can’t even deny it. “Yeah, I do.”

A pleased look crosses Demi’s face at my words. “Aww. I know I give you a hard time and mess with you, but it’s so freakin’ cute to see how much you like each other. How was your last date? You took her to the clock tower, right?” She leans in and props her chin in her hands, eager for the details.

“Yeah, we went to the clock tower. Besides all the stairs and the couples wanting to make out under the stars, it was

a success.”

“Oh, stop. I’m sure you were one of those couples making out, so don’t knock the others. Besides, you can cross this o your list of things to do at Cornell.”

I feel the warmth seep into my face at her words.

“Maybe,” I mumble, embarrassed to admit she’s right but also pleased because she’s right.

“I’m happy for you, Theo.” Her smile and words are genuine, but they quickly turn teasing. “I’m also proud of you. I mean, just a few weeks ago you weren’t sure what you’d do if she kissed you. Now, look at you two, sucking face in public places.”

“I can’t take you anywhere,” I groan. Thankfully, her voice is low enough that it doesn’t carry over to nearby tables.

“I won’t deny that, but you love me anyway. Tell me, what do you have planned next?”

Eager to move o the topic of kissing, I fill her in on tomorrow’s plans. “Well, our dates have been pretty active and public, so Addy suggested we stay in. She mentioned wanting to Netflix and chill, which is fine by me. I’m looking forward to some downtime with her.”

“Netflix and chill?” Demi’s eyebrows rise at my words.

“Are you ready for that?”

Her asking me if seeing a movie and hanging out is something I’d need to be ready for is odd, but she must be wondering if I can handle being near Addy in a more intimate setting.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? You and I Netflix and chill all the time.” My own brows rise when Demi coughs and covers the sound with an awkward laugh. “I know it’ll be di erent with her, but it’s the same concept.”

“It’ll definitely be di erent with her.” She laughs. “And I don’t know. We both don’t have a lot of experience, and I

wasn’t sure if there was a right time to do that. I’m sure you’ll have fun, though.”

I chuckle at her words; she must be rustier at dating than I thought. “I know we aren’t very experienced, but I think I can handle Netflix and chill, Demi. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Okay, if you say so. I can’t wait to hear about this when it’s over. I’m assuming the Netflix and chilling will take place at her apartment?”

“Your assumption is correct. Her roommates have something else going on, so we’ll have the place to ourselves.

It’ll be nice to have a relaxing night in. I’m curious to see what movie she’ll want to watch, but I’m hoping I can convince her to watch Justice League with me.”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure she’ll be all over that.” She winks at me, but before I can ask her what it was for, she continues.

“As much as I love living vicariously through you now when it comes to dating, it looks like you have to get through that stack of papers.” She indicates said pile with a nod. “Let me help you, and then we can go home after you drop o those papers, order pizza, and watch Agents of Shield.”

“That would be awesome. Thanks, Demi. You’re the best.”

She gives me her typical response. “I know.”

We both turn our focus to the task at hand, and the easy banter we have while we work helps keep me from counting down to my date tomorrow.

Addy may want to Netflix and chill, but there’s nothing ‘chill’ about the way I feel for her.

With Demi’s help, we make quick work of getting through everything that needs grading. We took separate cars to

school today, so she’s on her way home to put in the pizza order while I drop the assignments o at Cohen’s o ce.

My shoes echo down the deserted hallway, and I rap my knuckles in a quick staccato against his open door. He looks up, fatigue clear on his face, but his lips quirk up at the corners when he sees me.

“Theo, do you have a few moments?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just want to catch up and shoot the shit before we both head home.”

I’ve gotten used to his blunt manner of speaking, and I like how he treats me more like a peer than an assistant. I check the time on my cell and see Demi texted saying she had to make a pitstop at her dad’s before heading home. It shouldn’t take long, but I’m happy for the slight delay because I’ve come to really enjoy my talks with Cohen.

“Sure, I can hang out for a few.”

“Great, come on in. Have a seat.”

I shut the door behind me as I step into his o ce, taking in the now familiar surroundings as I make my way past the desk I usually sit at. The oak shelves lined with countless books on mythology make me itch to stop and peruse them, and I make a mental note to ask him if I can check out his collection one day. I step around a tall table holding a globe of Ancient Greece and give it a spin before settling into one of the wingback chairs in front of his desk.

“Before I forget, here is the latest round of assignments, graded and ready to disperse. I already entered the grades into the system.”

“Thank you, Theo. You’re doing a great job.”

“Thanks. Is it still a futile attempt to convince you to do online quizzes instead?” I ask hopefully.

Cohen lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, that’s not happening. Not everyone has a computer, and I don’t want

anyone cheating. Paper is more honest.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, even though I’m just giving him a hard time.

“How’s the semester going?”

“It’s going well. I really like my classes, and with the exception of this really demanding, archaic professor I TA for, it’d be great.” I don’t mean it at all, and I’m always slightly surprised by how easy it is to converse with Cohen.

“The kid’s got jokes,” he mutters.

“I’m not a kid.” Great, now I sound like a kid.

He smirks and leans back in his chair as he loosens his tie and undoes the top two buttons of his dress shirt. “There, much better,” he sighs in pleasure. “And when you’re thirty-one like me and feel ancient around a lot of the student body, everyone seems like a kid. I’ll give it to you though, Theo, you’re very mature for your age. You remind me of one of my brothers.”

I straighten at his compliment. “Thank you, and thank you?” I’m not entirely sure how he feels about his brothers.

“Ha, it’s a good thing,” he clarifies. “You remind me of my youngest brother. You’re what, twenty-two? Twentythree?”

“Twenty-three.”

“You’re even the same age as him. Byron’s a good egg; he’s a brainiac, kind, and is basically every mother’s dream child. One thing’s for sure, he didn’t give my mother gray hairs like my other brother and I did.” He chuckles and pauses, and there’s a distant look in his eyes, as if he’s reminiscing. “I’ll introduce the two of you the next time he visits. I’ve seen some of the comic books tucked away in your bag and know you guys would get along great. He’s in a graduate program at Ithaca College, so he’s not too far. Let me guess, you went to IthaCon too?”

I’m a little taken aback that he wants to introduce me to one of his brothers, and I’m surprised he knows about IthaCon. “Guilty as charged.”

“I figured. It was all he could talk about for months. Yeah, I’m definitely going to introduce you guys.”

“Thanks, that’s cool of you. I don’t have a lot of guy friends.”

I feel myself flush at the confession, but it’s true. Between juggling school, my TA duties, hanging with Demi, and dating Addy, I haven’t really had time to make new friends.

Instead of a look of pity, Cohen gives me a look of understanding. “Their loss. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s to nurture the relationships that matter. Don’t worry about the people who don’t want to be there. Life’s too short to worry about what others think, and it’s definitely too short to try and make someone like you. You feel me?”

The more time I spend with him, the more I realize he has this uncanny ability to speak to the unspoken, underlying issue that’s really bothering me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he has a superpower, his intuition is that strong.

“Yeah, I feel you.”

“Speaking of life being too short.” He leans forward and clasps his hands in front of him. “How are you feeling about teaching a lesson?”

“Um...not r-ready?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“Both?” I try and muster my thoughts. “Part of me wants to teach, but the other part of me still feels a lot of anxiety.

When I feel out of control, my stutter gets really bad, and I don’t want to have to struggle through a lesson. It’s not fair to your students.”

“The only thing that wouldn’t be fair, Theo, is to deprive them of a lesson from someone who’s competent,

knowledgeable, and passionate about the subject matter. I personally think you’d do a great job.”

“I think you’re kind of biased.”

“Trust me, if I didn’t think you’d be qualified, I wouldn’t o er to let you take the reigns in my class. When I saw your résumé I knew you’d be qualified, but it wasn’t until I met you and we had our long talks on mythology that I knew you’d be a great teacher.”

Now I’m blushing in earnest at his kind words. “Thank you, that means a lot to me.”

He nods as if it’s no big deal. “We’ll get you to teaching a class eventually. There’s no rush, but I hope you know I’m happy to help in any way I can. I know you haven’t tried it yet, but I’m calling it now: you’ll get a taste for it and will want to teach.”

He looks so confident in his words.

“If I decide to go down that route, I’ll be sure to thank you. Just don’t get a big head about it if you’re right.”

We both share an easy laugh, and I’m grateful we get along. Most of our conversations are about school, but I enjoy when we touch on personal things as well. He really is becoming a friend of sorts, and I can’t help but wonder if this is what it’d be like to have an older brother.

My phone beeps, and I glance at the screen quickly.

There’s a text notification from Demi, and I know it’s time for me to leave.

“Time to go?” he guesses.

“Yeah, my best friend and I are going to have pizza and binge on some TV shows.”

“Sounds like a good time. I better get going as well before I become part of the scenery here.”

We say our goodbyes, and as I’m pulling open the door, Cohen calls out. “Oh, and Theo?”

I stop with my hand on the knob and glance at him over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“My door’s always open if you need anything,” he reminds.

I give him a genuine thank you and head out, grateful to have someone else I can count on for advice. I doubt anything will come up, but it’s comforting knowing he’s there for me.

NINE ADDY

E XCITEMENT over my night in with Theo has been bubbling all day, and I feel like my body is ready to float or combust. I’m primped, spritzed, shaved, and bu ed to within an inch of my life, and I’ve finally decided on an outfit. My clothes are cute but not cute enough they scream I want to seduce you; my low-cut tank shows o the girls, and my yoga pants are easy access and do great things for my legs and butt. We agreed to takes things slow, and while things have been wonderful the past few weeks, I’m ready to take things to the next level. I don’t expect us to have sex, but I really want to explore his body. On the o chance my clothes come o , I want to be ready.

With each date we have, my desire to see Theo and get to know him better amplifies. I appreciate how great he’s being at respecting me, but I’m dying for him to maybe respect me a little less physically. We haven’t passed first base, so we’ve done nothing but kiss. While the kissing gets better and better—God, can he kiss—I’m primed and set to hit the ball into the outfield and round some damn bases. At this stage, I don’t need much. If anything, I’d like to show him how much I’ve appreciated everything he’s done for me the past few weeks.

I’m swiping on some lip balm when I hear the doorbell ring, and I rush over to the door, eager to get naughty with my sexy nerd. We haven’t established what we are or where things are going yet, but Theo is definitely mine; he just doesn’t know it yet. I run to answer the door and launch myself at him, and his strong arms wrap around my body and hold me close.

“That’s some greeting,” he whispers against my neck, and I can feel his smile against my skin. He presses his lips more firmly against me, and a delicious shiver runs up my spine and make my nipples pucker.

“I missed you,” I admit, my voice slightly mu ed by his shoulder.

He pulls back, and before I can lament the loss of contact, he takes my lips in a heated kiss that shows me how much he missed me as well. As his mouth owns mine, his large hands run up and down my back before finally landing on my butt.

His touch feels tentative at first, but he tightens his grip with a groan as our kiss deepens, and I feel myself get wet at the contact.

Down, girl, I think to myself. I’m excited for his hands to roam even more, but we need to make it inside first. I come back up for air and give him a playful kiss on the nose before throwing his words back at him. “That’s some greeting.”

“In case you couldn’t tell, I missed you too.” I’ve noticed his stutter is less pronounced the more time we spend together, and while I’m happy it means he is more comfortable around me, I miss hearing the endearing sound.

He sets me back down on the ground, and we smile like goobers as we head into my apartment. My eyes drink him in, and my mouth waters because he can rock a t-shirt and jeans better than any guy I’ve ever met.

We quickly settle ourselves onto the couch, and I curl my body against his, making sure to maximize the amount of

physical contact between us.

“What do you feel like watching?”

“Whatever you want, hot stu .” It’s not like we’ll be watching it for long. After all, the whole point of Netflix and chill is to fool around during the movie.

“I was thinking we could watch Justice League, unless you’ve seen it already or don’t want to watch it. I remember you mentioning how much you love the guy who plays the Flash. By the way, Demi says you’re crazy for preferring him to Aquaman.”

“Ezra Miller?” Oh, yeah, I love my nerds. “Demi can have Aquaman and all his smoldering intensity. Not only is the Flash fun, his personality is great, but he’s still got nothing on you.”

“Thank you.” Theo looks both pleased and sheepish at my words, and I can’t help but lean in and press a quick peck to his warm cheek.

“Justice League sounds great, though. Start it up.”

Theo presses play, and my anticipation starts to ratchet up further now that the movie is playing. Fifteen minutes into the movie, and my anticipation turns into confusion because we’re still only watching the movie. I’m honestly not paying any attention, but I can see Theo is genuinely following along with the movie. Figuring he must be shy, I feign a yawn and arch my back in an exaggerated motion that thrusts my breasts out so they brush against his arm. I see him tense at the contact, but he keeps his eyes on the screen.

Twenty-five minutes in, and I try to divert his attention again. I rotate my body so I’m facing him more and wrap one of my arms around his and grip his bicep; this gives me the chance to run my fingers up the bulging muscle and also serves to plump my cleavage, which is definitely in his line of sight.

Thirty minutes in, and I can feel his breathing turn shallow since I’m basically plastered to his side like a spider monkey. I chance a glance up at him from under my lashes, and I’m pleased to see he’s definitely forgotten about the movie. His gaze is zeroed in on my cleavage; he doesn’t even notice I’ve caught him looking, that’s how intent his stare is.

I smile at this revelation and have to stop myself from gasping when I let my eyes travel down his chest and to his lap.

My mouth begins to water at the sight of his jean-clad erection, which looks surprisingly big. I figured he’d be sizable considering his height, but the thick outline straining against his jeans is downright impressive. Unable to help myself, I place the hand not circling his arm on his thigh, which causes me to face him more fully. I look up, and his gaze is no longer on my chest. Rather, his eyes are trained on his lap where my hand is slowing inching toward his dick.

“Addy?” he gasps in question.

I don’t answer. Instead, I continue to move my hand.

Theo’s sharp intake of breath greets my ears as I move ever closer, and a low hiss escapes him when I finally brush against his erection. My own breathing grows ragged as I move my hand back and forth over the hard ridge.

“A-addy?” he tries again, and this time he places his hand on mine to stop my movements.

I drag my eyes back to his, and his expression looks as wild as I feel. “Yes, Theo?”

“W-what are y-you d-d-doing?” His stutter is back in full force, and I grin at the sound.

“I’m making you feel good. Didn’t that feel good?” He gives me a jerky nod in response, and the a rmation bolsters my desire even more. “I know we said we’d take things slow, but I want to take things to the next level. Is that okay? You can say no if it isn’t, and we can stop.” I don’t

look away as our eyes lock because I want him to see how sincere I am.

“Y-yes.” He looks torn, and there’s something else in his gaze I can’t decipher. “I m-mean, n-no.” He pauses and takes a deep breath before clarifying. “Y-yes, it’s okay. Nno, we d-don’t have to st-stop.” He removes his hand from over mine before asking, “Wh-what do you have in mind?”

I smile at his question and lean in to give him a kiss instead of answering. The kiss starts o sweet like all the others, but it quickly turns into something hotter. I swing my leg over his lap to straddle him, eager to press the part of me desperate for attention against the part of him I am dying to see. This seems to jolt Theo into action, and I feel my panties soak through when his hungry mouth assaults mine.

Theo’s lips are aggressive, and my head tilts back when he moves his focus from my mouth to my neck. He’s sucking and licking the long column of my throat, and I moan because it feels so damn good to finally have his mouth on me. While his mouth is aggressive, his hands are moving over my body in gentle sweeps. He runs them over my back, and I feel like crying tears of joy when he finally glides them up my stomach and over my breasts. His touch is soft and doesn’t stray under my shirt, and his fingers soon find the tight buds of my nipples, which he circles and lightly squeezes.

His tender ministrations on my breasts soon have me panting for more, so I pull away from his drugging kisses and make quick work of removing my top. Theo’s eyes widen appreciatively at the sight of my heaving chest, but he seems to be lost in the visual since his hands remain loosely at my hips. With my hands guiding his, I grab them and drag them up my stomach to where I need his touch right now.

“You can touch me,” I whisper, the squeeze of my hands over his punctuating the permission I’m giving him.

My words spur him to action, and he starts to rub and caress me of his own volition. Much like his kisses, his touch starts o tentative, as if he’s learning me and what I like. I get lost in the sensation of his patient exploration, but he soon becomes emboldened by my gasps of encouragement.

His grip becomes more substantial on my skin, and my eyes flutter closed when one hand tweaks a nipple under my bra while his mouth exposes the other nipple and laves it eagerly with his soft tongue.

I grind against him with a calculated twist of my hips, and he throws his head back on a groan. I take advantage of his exposed throat and mimic the attention he gave me moments ago on his own neck. He bucks up against me in response, and I whimper at the hard pressure of him against my center. My curiosity to see him wins, and I move my kisses lower. I fist my hands in his shirt as I kiss down his chest and abs, and his breathing starts to come out in loud pants the lower I go. I don’t waste time when I get to his zipper, and soon my hand is wrapping around his hot length and pulling him free from his boxers.

“Theo,” I gasp in appreciation and wonder. “Your dick is perfect.” He’s long, hard, and smooth, and he’s thick enough that I know I’ll have to stretch a little to take him whenever we go all the way. A pearly drop of precum glistens at the tip, and I lean over to lick it up. When I look up, his eyes are hot on mine, and his hands are fisted at his sides. “I want to make you feel good.”

A strangled groan is all I hear before I lean back in and show him with my mouth just how much I like him.

THEO Hot. Wet. Suction.

My mind can’t wrap around how good it feels to have Addy’s mouth on me—in an area that’s never known a woman’s hands or mouth before—but my body sure loves it.

Kissing Addy and seeing her without her shirt on is intense, but getting my first blow job has launched my nervous system into a whole other realm of sensation.

Sweat starts to bead at the base of my neck, my body rebelling at my inner determination not to come. I don’t realize my eyes are tightly shut until I pry them open and stare at Addy, my lids heavy. She’s staring up at me as she caresses and kisses and licks and sucks my dick, her gorgeous brown eyes filled with naughty intent and joy. My fists are balled and my fingernails are digging into my palms. The slight sting grounds me and keeps me from focusing on the magic happening in my lap, though it’s a struggle not to succumb to how good it feels.

Addy’s bobbing up and down, and her fist is squeezed around the base of my dick, pumping for all it’s worth as her mouth continues to move. Her eyes start to flutter closed, and her groan causes a vibration to ripple up and down my length. I continue to watch her with bated breath, and any chance I had of lasting any longer goes up in smoke when I see her other hand moving quickly between her legs.

“O-oh,” I gasp, my eyes glued to where she’s touching herself. My own fingers twitch in response; I can’t wait until I get the chance to touch her intimately.

“Mmm,” she hums again, and the jolt of pleasure from her mouth and the erotic visual in front of me is about to

push me over the edge. I can feel my orgasm building at the base of my spine, and my balls tighten in readiness.

“I’m going to c-come, Addy.” My words are pained, the pleasure is so intense.

Instead of popping o like I expect, she groans again and bobs up and down at a faster pace, confident in her abilities.

This girl is unbelievable. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, she pulls her other hand from between her legs and brings them to my balls. She grasps them lightly, rolls them between her fingers, and tugs on them, and I can feel the wetness of her arousal on the sensitive skin there. I don’t stand a chance; between that and the slick warmth of her mouth, I come long and hard, the intensity of my orgasm causing my eyes to roll into the back of my head. She keeps her mouth suctioned around my dick the entire time, and once I’m replete, I can feel myself jerk at the sensitivity.

With a smile and a featherlight kiss to the tip, Addy finally leans back and smiles up at me triumphantly. “I’d ask how I did, but judging from what just happened and your expression, I’d say I did a damn good job.”

I’m breathing hard, but a chuckle manages to escape at her words. I tuck myself back into my boxers and pants before pulling her up and into my lap, her legs straddling me once again.

“Thank you,” I whisper against her neck as I give her a hug.

“Anytime, Theo. Seriously, anytime. I might be at risk of getting ad-dick-ted to you.” She chuckles. “I’m sure you’ve heard that before, but I mean it.”

A blush heats up my skin, and I’m glad she can’t see it while we embrace. “I haven’t h-heard it b-before.”

“Then the other girls you’ve been with are crazy. Lucky for me, though.”

Her fingers are running a path up and down my back on either side of my spine, and I feel myself relax into her touch, even though I’m nervous at what I’m about to say.

“I have a c-confession.” My words come out shaky.

“There have been n-no other g-girls.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m…” I take a deep breath to try and steady myself for my confession. “I’m a v-virgin. That was my f-first...y-you were my f-first b-blow job, Addy,” I admit, my words trailing o in a whisper.

Silence ensues, and my breath stays lodged in my throat as I wait for her to respond.

“A virgin?” She moves her hands up to my shoulders and pushes back from our hug so we are facing each other once again. I force myself to look her in the eyes, but instead of disappointment, I see surprise. “How is that possible?”

“I j-just n-never met anyone I w-wanted to do anything w-with. Until n-now.”

Addy stares at me for long, drawn out moments. Finally, right when I’m about to ask her to say something, she speaks. “God, I’m such an asshole, Theo. I’m so sorry!”

“S-sorry?” An apology is the last thing I was expecting her to give. “Why?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“I basically attacked your dick! I’m so insensitive. Oh, my God, you should’ve told me to stop or something. I feel terrible.” She buries her face in her palms and groans.

My jaw goes slack from surprise before I gather my wits again. I reach up and gently pry her hands away from her face. “Don’t, Addy.” Her eyes are downcast, so I give her a gentle nudge under the chin so she knows I want to look her in the eyes. I can feel another blush coming on. “I’m g-glad I experienced that with you. And I promise you’re not an asshole.”

“Promise?” Her cheeks are still tinged with her embarrassment, but I can see the hope shining in her eyes.

“Promise. I wanted it to happen. I was r-ready.”

“Well, I’m honored.” She smiles with gratitude before she leans in and pecks me on the lips. “Thank you for letting me share that experience with you. When you’re ready for more, I’ll be ready for you, Theo.”

We spend the rest of the night finishing up the movie and cuddling, but instead of losing myself in the DC Universe like I normally do, I can’t help but think of next time.

TEN THEO

“A RE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS , T HEO ?”

I can hear the trepidation in Addy’s voice, but if I’m confident in anything, it’s that this is my domain. Here, I’m king.

“Yes, I’m sure. You can trust me.”

She’s trying to put on a brave face, but I can tell she’s nervous. Instead of doing another night of staying in like we’ve been doing the past few dates, I somehow convinced Addy to come to the pool with me. She mentioned not knowing how to swim, and the desire to teach her has been nagging at me since I found out.

“Okay, Theo, I’ll trust you. Don’t let me die, please.”

I can’t help but laugh at her remark. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m trying to make it so you can always feel safe in the water.” As I speak, I lift my Thor t-shirt over my head, leaving me in nothing but my board shorts. I try not to smile at the sound of Addy’s sharply inhaled breath, but it’s hard. “Let’s get in,” I say, gesturing toward the placid pool that awaits us as I fold my shirt and place it on the bench.

“Now that’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“All that,” she says as she waves her hand in a zigzag shape. “How am I supposed to concentrate and feel safe

when I can’t stop looking at you?”

“You’ve seen me without a shirt plenty of times now.”

“Yeah, but this is di erent. Are board shorts even supposed to be that low on your hips?”

Her eyes are bugging out, and I feel myself redden at her open admiration.

“They fit just fine. Let’s get in, Addy. It’s past time for you to have a swimming lesson.”

She hu s indignantly, but her grin lights up her face.

“Fine.”

With that, she shimmies out of her sweater and leggings, and I feel my mouth turn dry at the sight before me. I see Addy’s point now. Even though I’ve seen her in various states of undress, seeing her in her swimsuit is a whole new experience; it’s as close to naked as I’ve ever seen her, and I’m mesmerized. Her fire-engine red bikini is as bold as her personality, and the barely-there material hugs her slim figure perfectly. Her nipples pebble as I stare at her, and I lick my lips in hunger as I take in her perky breasts and long legs.

Yeah, I definitely see what she means now.

In an e ort to tamp down my burgeoning hard-on and stick to the swim lesson plan, I swiftly turn around and jump into the shallow end of the pool. The cool water shocks my system, and I embrace the comfort of my safe place.

“Get in, beautiful!” I call out to her, my voice echoing o the walls.

Addy walks toward the edge of the pool cautiously and opts to enter by using the ladder near me. I can’t help but stare at her butt as she lowers herself in, and I smile at how she makes sure her feet can touch the bottom before she lets go of the rail.

She’s so cute.

I reach out and grab her, making sure to pull her close. I want her to feel safe and confident whenever she’s in a pool, and it’s my mission to make that happen.

“Let’s start with the basics, okay? We’ll do some floating and dog-paddling and go from there. This is only your first lesson, so I won’t throw you into the deep end and expect you to swim out of survival instinct.”

She snorts. “I appreciate that.”

It’s clear she’s nervous, and I admire her bravery in tackling this with open arms.

“How is it that you don’t know how to swim?” Like seriously, how is that possible?

“I took lessons as a kid, but I still drowned.” Her gaze pulls inward, as if she’s recalling the experience. I give her a comforting hug as I wait for her to continue. “Maybe saying I took lessons is a stretch. We had mandatory swim lessons in elementary school, but for some reason, my group didn’t really focus on actual swimming. Everyone around us was learning how to do it, and our instructor made us stay in the shallow end and play games. My family knew I took lessons, but they didn’t know how ine ective the lessons were. I was at a birthday party for one of my cousins and acted recklessly. When I ventured into the deep end and let go of the edge, I couldn’t keep myself afloat. Thankfully adults were nearby to save me, but it made me a little pool-shy.”

Her face is pink in what I’m assuming is embarrassment.

I reach down, cup her cheeks, and rest my forehead against hers.

“I promise you,” I whisper, “I’ll keep you safe.” If I could inject my will into my words, they’d have taken flight with my surety. “I’ll always keep you safe, Addy.”

I press a light kiss on her lips, no tongue, and give her a tight squeeze before pulling back.

“Thank you, Theo.” Her eyes are heavy-lidded, as if she just woke from a dream, and her smile is enough to make my heart kickstart in my chest. “Let’s do this.”

For the past hour, we’ve worked on dog-paddling and floating, and I talked Addy through the di erent strokes. It took her awhile to fully relax, but she’s finally given herself up to my tutelage. She’s doing well, and her excitement has been increasing. I take extreme pride in knowing she trusts me, like I’m her superhero.

“You’re doing great, but we should probably call it quits today. I don’t want to overwork you.”

“Probably a smart idea,” she quips. “I’m getting really tired.”

“Here,” I say, and I lift her body so we’re flush against one another.

Her legs wrap around my waist and her hands loop around my neck, pushing her breasts into my chest, and my mostly dormant dick starts to twitch to life.

“Thank you,” she sighs in gratitude. “Not just for picking me up since I’m turning into jelly, but for wanting to teach me how to swim. For being patient, and for being a surprisingly great instructor.”

“You’re welcome.” I move us toward the edge of the pool, but instead of letting her go so we can exit, I press her against the wall and rest my arms on the lip. She’s caged in, and she couldn’t look more at ease with me. “I don’t know why you’re surprised, though. I’m a strong swimmer, and I had a lot of practice teaching Demi how to swim.”

An eyebrow lifts, and I catch the twinkle in her eye as she looks at me.

“What?”

“You taught Demi how to swim?”

“Yes, and she’s a great swimmer,” I say proudly.

“Were your lessons with her as intimate as our lesson?”

If it weren’t for the smile lifting her lips and her teasing tone, I’d be worried she’s jealous of Demi. I really don’t want to have to deal with this and repeat history from my past relationship.

I know she’s joking, so I decide to joke back. “Of course they were. We spent a lot of time in the pool perfecting her stroke.”

Addy’s eyes widen at the double entendre, and a quick bolt of worry flashes through me until she throws her head back and laughs.

“Yeah, right. How old were you when this happened?

Ten?” “Seven,” I admit with a laugh.

“Well, I’m glad you had practice teaching someone before teaching me.” Her voice turns serious as she looks up at me, her eyes filled with trust and vulnerability. “For real though, thank you for making me feel safe. I never thought I’d start to feel this way again in water. It’s...it’s one of my f-fears.”

The feeling of a ection building in my chest since I met her grows exponentially at her confession and at her stutter.

I’m so humbled by her words and the trust she’s placed in me.

“I told you, Addy, I’ll always keep you safe. You’re too pprecious to do otherwise.”

She pulls herself up to place a grateful kiss on my lips, and her front rubs against my very apparent arousal. Heat flashes in her eyes when she realizes I’m turned on, and she rubs her hardened nipples against my chest.

“Let me thank you, Theo.”

Before I can question how she’d like to thank me, she starts to rub herself against my dick. I drag in a ragged

breath at the sensation, which is incredible. However, instead of letting her continue her torturous slide against my body, I grip her hips to stop her and press her harder against the pool’s wall at her back.

“You d-don’t need to thank me this way, Addy. That’s not all I w-want to d-do with you.” Before she can take my words the wrong way, I rush on. “I want to. Trust me, I want.” I groan and can’t help thrusting against her to remind her just how much I want her, and her little moan almost does me in. “But it’s not all I want or need. I don’t want you to ever question my intentions.”

“Your intentions?”

“Yes. I do things like this because I want to spend time with you and get to know you better. It’ll never be an exchange with me. I did this not because I want you to repay me somehow, but because I thought it’d h-help you and make you h-happy.”

Addy’s legs and arms squeeze tighter around me, but she’s stopped her rubbing, thank God. “Have I told you before that you’re something else?”

She doesn’t sound angry. Instead, her tone is playful.

“You may have mentioned it a time or two,” I say, smiling down at her.

“I say it because it’s amazing. You’re amazing. Thank you for this experience, Theo. This was a first for me, and I hope I get to experience some of your firsts with you too.”

Her meaning is clear, and I couldn’t agree more. “Same h-here, beautiful.”

I lean in and press light kisses on her face. I start with her forehead, move down to the tip of her nose, and end at her lips that never fail to drive me crazy. She sighs contentedly against me, and we lazily explore each other’s mouths with no concern for the time.

We stay in the pool, pressed tightly together, and the growing feelings between us fill up the cavernous space with warmth. It isn’t until we’re wrinkled like raisins in the sun that we exit the water, the feeling of closeness we share stronger than ever.

ELEVEN THEO

I’ M in completely uncharted territory, and it’s exhilarating.

Ever since our late night swimming session, the connection between me and Addy has continued to grow and evolve.

We’re both busy with school since midterms are right around the corner, but the times we do see each other have helped the weeks fly by.

Monday study sessions turn into bouts of kissing in the stacks.

Wednesday nights at my apartment to watch Riverdale turn into a fight to keep our hands to ourselves when Demi’s in the room.

Saturday date nights, sometimes Sundays too, turn into heated makeout sessions where our clothes stay on but our inhibitions start to shed.

It’s Thursday now, and I’m in Cohen’s o ce grading papers. I should be focusing on the papers in front of me, but I can’t stop my thoughts from drifting to my date with Addy this weekend. Unlike our previous dates where we rounded first and second base, I want to round third. Addy’s gone down on me a few times since that incredible first time, but I’ve yet to return the favor. I want to change this fact, but I’m not sure how. My dilemma must be showing clearly on

my face because a deep sigh resonates across the room, breaking me from my reverie.

“Theo, you’ve been staring at the same paper for the past twenty minutes. Is there something you’d like me to double check?”

I glance up and look at Cohen, the back of my neck heating at being caught dawdling. “N-no, thanks. It wwasn’t the paper. I’m s-sorry.”

As if debating what to say next, he simply looks at me for a few moments instead of responding. “If it’s not the paper, what is it? It’s clear you have something on your mind.”

“N-nothing.”

A lone eyebrow rises, the skepticism clear in that single gesture.

“It’s not related to school. It’s…” I pause for a moment, tempted beyond belief to get his take on things. We’ve reached an easy camaraderie the past few weeks, and while he has some exacting standards both in and out of the classroom, he’s surprisingly approachable. Still, I’m sure asking for sex advice from my professor and sometimes boss is crossing way too many lines. “It’s p-personal. I’m not sure I want to talk about it. But thank you.”

“Ah, okay.” He looks back at his computer screen, and I try to focus on the papers I should be grading.

I’m twirling my grading pen between my fingers when another sigh reaches my ears. Glancing back at Cohen, who’s scratching his overgrown stubble as he turns away from his screen, I hear him mutter what sounds like “I hope I don’t regret this” under his breath. A beat passes before he levels me with another long look.

“Hypothetically speaking, let’s say you did want to talk about it. Would you like to talk about it with me?” There’s a furrow in his brow, which makes him look both confused and determined. “It’s fine if it’s about something personal.”

Where would I event start? “Um, I...I d-don’t k-know…”

“It’s fine if you don’t, but I’m here if you’d like to talk about whatever’s weighing on your mind.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Anytime.”

An awkward, hanging silence fills the room as we both look away. My mind rapidly fires through all the ways this conversation could go horribly wrong, but I don’t have anyone else I can talk to about this. Not to mention, judging from the way the female student body is three stalkers short of becoming a Cohen cult, my professor is an e ortless casanova in his own right. I may as well take advantage of the o er, no matter how uncomfortable it’ll be to talk about.

What was it he said in our first class together? No risk, no reward?

“It’s about a girl,” I blurt out.

Time feels suspended as I watch him digest my confession. Instead of seeing regret at opening up our discussion to this specific topic, his eyes are filled with curiosity and understanding when his gaze finally lands on me.

“Now, that I can help with. Trouble with the girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Sure looks like you do.”

Sweat starts to dampen my palms. While we technically haven’t labeled ourselves, we’ve still been really careful to not act like we’re seeing one another during class. Before I can respond, Cohen continues.

“You are dating the brunette, yes?” At my look of confusion, he clarifies. “Long, wavy hair? She visits you after class sometimes?”

It takes me a moment, but I hu in a breath of relief when I realize who he’s referring to. “You mean Demi?”

“Demi?” he asks as he leans forward slightly, interest lighting his eyes. Man, he must really want to help me.

“Yeah, no, we aren’t dating. She’s my best friend.”

Cohen leans back in his seat, a slightly perplexed look on his face. “You’re just friends?”

“Yes, but there is another girl.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs. “Okay, if Demi is just a friend, tell me about this other girl.”

“She, um, sh-she’s a st-student.”

I eye him nervously until understanding dawns on his face. “One of my students? One of my students who you TA for?”

“Y-yes.” Panic makes my stomach flutter with nerves. “I know it’s a c-conflict of interest, b-but—” My out of control words cut o when Cohen raises a hand.

“I’m not going to say anything.” My shoulders sag in relief.

“I don’t care who you date, but I have a more relaxed stance on this than the school board. As of right now, you’ll no longer grade her assignments. Please set them aside for me, and I’ll grade them just to be on the safe side.”

A sense of relief washes over me at his words now that I have one less thing to worry about. “Thank you.”

He nods in acknowledgement of my gratitude. “Now, what’s going on?”

My palms become clammy the longer I stress, so I blurt out, “I’m a virgin.”

Silence.

Really awkward silence.

Cohen, who’s usually so sure of himself, looks bowled over by my confession. He manages to school his features from astonishment to cool detachment, but I know I’ve thrown him for a loop. Just as I’m about to ask him to pretend this conversation never happened, he speaks.

“I wasn’t expecting that, but okay. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Ththanks. I’m a virgin, but Addy isn’t. I can’t talk to Demi about this, and my father has been out of the picture since I was really young. I can’t talk to my mom about this, either.”

“So that leaves me.”

“Y-yep.”

“This would usually be a highly unusual topic between student and teacher, but I’m here for you, Theo. I told you I have an open door policy at the beginning of the semester, and I meant it. I’d like to think we’ve become friends of sorts.”

I nod in agreement. “I’d agree. You feel more like an older brother than a boss.”

A small smile curls his lips at my words. “I did tell you that you remind me of one of my brothers. I’m happy to help, but please, this specific conversation needs to stay between us.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Excellent.” With his hands steepled over his desk, he urges me to continue.

“So, I’m a v-virgin. I mean, I’m not totally clueless. I’m a guy, so I’ve obviously taken full advantage of the internet, but I don’t have...I don’t…” My words trail o as I flounder for the right words.

“You don’t have hands-on experience,” he supplies.

“Exactly. Not much, anyway. Addy and I have done stu , but I’m not sure what to do next.”

God, this is uncomfortable.

“Theo, if I’m going to help you, I’ll need you to be a little more forthcoming. I know this is unorthodox, but I need a little more to go o of. If I were really your older brother, how would you talk about this with me?”

His words make sense, but it’s still hard for me to get the words out. I think this conversation would be awkward regardless of who I have it with.

“R-right. We’ve rounded second base together, and she’s gone d-down on me. But I w-want…” I take a deep breath and try to force my rampant thoughts to calm down. “I wwant to go down on her, but I d-don’t know how. The uh, the videos I’ve seen haven’t been really helpful. I haven’t made her c-come yet, and I really w-want to do that.”

My glasses start to slide down from all my nervous perspiration, and I push them back up the bridge of my nose as I wait for Cohen’s advice.

“Ah, the elusive female orgasm. I know you’re asking specifically about oral, and we’ll get to that, but I’m going to also dispense some advice that will help you when you’re ready to take things to the next level. Does that work?”

I eagerly nod, and the urge to pick up a pen and take notes is almost unbearable. Instead, I focus on my mentor. “That works.”

“Women have many erogenous zones on their bodies, but the most powerful one is the brain.”

My brow wrinkles in confusion. “The brain?”

“Yes, the key to making a woman orgasm is making sure you stimulate her mind,” he says as he points to his head, “and her body at the same time. It sounds like a tall order, but I want you to remember a few important things— guiding principles, if you will—that will help you when it comes to pleasing a woman.”

“Okay.”

“First, she comes first. Every. Single. Time. Before you get yours, make sure she gets hers. If you happen to orgasm before her, you better make sure you return the damn favor.

Making a woman come is addictive; it’s a natural high most men take for granted. Her pleasure is paramount, and you

don’t ever want to leave a woman unsatisfied. This rule applies even more so when you’re making a first impression.

You want to be the guy she thinks about when she touches herself.”

I’m listening to his candid advice with rapt attention, my initial discomfort at having this conversation no longer at the forefront of my mind. Instead, it’s being replaced with curiosity.

“But how do I make sure she’s satisfied? How do I become that guy?”

Cohen chuckles at my eagerness before he continues. “I’ll get to that. Second, always be aware. It’s easy to get lost in the pleasure yourself, and it happens, but if you want to make a woman come, you need to pay attention to what she likes. Study her reactions to things you do, remember things she says, and use those to your advantage. Every woman is di erent, and some may need more help than others to get there. This is where the brain stimulation comes in. There won’t ever be a tried and true method each time to get a woman o , even if it’s the same woman. Maybe she had a bad day or she’s self-conscious or she’s wanting to try something new. Figure out what she wants, do it, and do it while making her feel beautiful.”

“What if I can’t figure out what she wants? And can’t I just tell her she’s beautiful?”

“To address your first question, the answer is simple. You ask her.”

“Just like that?” I can hear the skepticism in my voice.

“Just like that. If you aren’t sure, you need to ask her. It doesn’t mean she’ll answer; some women are shy or not as vocal. Something that’s worked for me is asking if she likes something while you do it. This way, you can gauge her reaction to something specific, and if she doesn’t give a very thorough response or doesn’t answer verbally, her body will

respond for her. If you can feel her getting wetter, you’re doing something right.”

I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now, but I’m glad it’s happening.

“To answer your second question, telling a woman she’s beautiful isn’t enough. Words are great, but you need to back what you say up with action. My third piece of advice is to take your time with foreplay. Worship her body, and make her feel incredible. My advice overlaps in that they’re all related. This goes back to what I said earlier about her getting wet. You want her so keyed up for the final act, so mindless with pleasure, that she’s aching for it. If you really like this girl, this won’t be a problem. The fact that you want to make her feel good speaks volumes. Trust me, this part won’t be a hardship.”

“This is a lot to remember.” Anxiety starts to brew in the pit of my gut. What if I can’t do all of this, or what if I’m bad at it?

My apprehension must be showing on my face because Cohen quickly reassures me. “Prowess comes with experience, and no person is an expert. Even me. You’ll learn as you experiment, and when you are trying things out with someone, you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t.

When you get to know her body and her reactions, you’ll be able to use what you’ve learned. At the end of the day, it’s important to remember to just have fun and learn from every interaction.”

“Okay.” I breathe out slowly. “I can try that.”

“You’ll be okay, Theo. Now, let’s talk about oral. How familiar are you with the female anatomy?”

“Um, what do you mean?”

“I mean, how familiar are you with the pussy? You’ve mentioned going to second base already, so I’m assuming

you’ve fingered her, but how comfortable are you down there?”

I squirm in my seat, my face heating at remembering touching Addy this way and having to answer this question.

“I-I’ve seen her down there, but I h-haven’t gotten up cclose and p-personal.”

Cohen looks around for a moment as he contemplates what to say next. His eyes land on the orange I brought for a snack on my desk, and he points at it. “Toss me that orange, please.”

Without hesitation, I throw him my orange and watch as he quickly starts to peel it.

“Now,” he starts, “I would suggest you watch some porn on your own time to continue this lesson, but I’m going to try and show you what to focus on.” He’s managed to peel the orange all the way, and he easily splits it in half. “Let’s pretend this,” he starts, gesturing toward the inside of one peeled half, “is a woman’s pussy.”

Surprise runs through me. “The orange?”

“Just go with it.”

“O-okay.”

“Eating a woman’s pussy is almost like eating an orange, and the anatomy is not that dissimilar.”

“Um...okay.”

“See this right here?” he asks as he gestures toward the top of the central column of the orange. The top of the column wasn’t pulled out when he peeled it, and it looks like a little bump. Once I nod, he continues. “This is the clit.

Sometimes a woman’s clit will be big, and sometimes it’ll be small and will hide behind the clitoral hood. As she becomes more stimulated, her clit will swell. When you’re going down on a woman, you want to pay special attention to the clit.

Granted, you want to pay special attention to the clit in all

sexual acts, but you really want to love on it during oral.

Basically, make out with it. Kiss it, lick it, suck it.”

The heat level on my face is starting to reach dangerous levels, and I’m sure he can see it. Thankfully, he’s in full teacher mode and chooses to ignore my obvious embarrassment and continues.

“So on either side of the clit, you have the lips, and between all this, you have the slit.” He punctuates his very high-level anatomy lesson by pointing out the parts he’s mentioning with his fingers. “Sometimes it drives a woman crazy in a good way if you focus on all the other parts of her pussy before you pay attention to her clit. Teasing can be your best friend, Theo. Going back to turning on her mind, sometimes the anticipation makes things that much hotter.

The pussy is your playground, and you want to make sure your lips and tongue and fingers get in on the action. From what you’ve said, you haven’t fully rounded second base either, so you can do both of these when going down on her.

“When you insert your fingers, take the time to feel her.

Don’t be crazy and get super rough with it, either. Start slow, use soft touches, and build up as she gets turned on. You don’t have to test this right away, but if you crook your finger in a come-hither motion, you’ll find her G-spot. This is just as sensitive as the clit and makes women go crazy, and it feels like a slightly rough bundle of nerves. Trust me, when you find it, you’ll know.”

His hand has been demonstrating the entire time what he means, and he chuckles before continuing.

“My previous advice about being aware and paying attention to what she likes or doesn’t like definitely applies here. If she twitches and moans, keep doing it. If she gets wetter, keep doing it. If she grabs your head and pulls your hair, keep doing it. If she clenches around your fingers and arches her back, keep fucking doing it.”

“K-keep doing it. Got it,” I say faintly.

“One thing that’ll separate your skills from that of others is to never do things halfway. Eat her pussy like you would a juicy, well, orange. And all that wetness?” He presses the center of the bottom of the orange where he said the slit was, and the juices seep out and run down his fingers. “You lick that sweet goodness up and savor it.” He pops his fingers into his mouth and follows his own advice. “Even when she comes, don’t stop what you’re doing. See that orgasm through to the end. Believe me, if you enjoy eating her out, she’ll enjoy it. I personally love eating pussy, but it’s not for everyone. If it’s not your thing, no worries. Just figure out another way to get her o .”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Like I said, you’ll learn as you go, and your confidence will increase. If you have fun, it’ll be easy. Making sure she comes first, paying attention to what her body does and what she says, and incorporating foreplay are the three pillars of sexual enjoyment I encourage you to remember. You can’t really go wrong with these things, and your curiosity and eagerness will help make this all happen naturally. I can guarantee it won’t feel like work or a checklist. And remember, eat that pussy like it’s your last meal.”

His last sentence has me laughing, and it helps breaks me from the self-consciousness that washed over me a moment ago.

“Thank you for being so honest and for the help, Cohen.”

“Anytime, Theo. I hope it all works out for you.”

“Same here.”

“You want the other half of this orange?”

“Sure,” I reply. He throws the half he didn’t use in his demonstration over, and I set it down next to me.

I start to grade papers, but nervous excitement hits me whenever I think of Cohen’s guidance and look at the orange

on my desk.

It’s time to put this lesson to the test.

TWELVE ADDY

I DON ’ T KNOW what’s gotten into Theo, but I freakin’ love it.

It’s our Saturday date night, and the heavy makeout session we usually indulge in is on track to be the sexiest one yet.

Once we got back to my place from dinner, Theo carried me to my bedroom and started to shower me with more erotic attention than I’ve ever received in my life. We haven’t had sex yet, but my sexy virgin is obviously set on making me feel good. And boy, is he succeeding.

“It’s not fair that I’m practically naked and you’re still dressed,” I pant as Theo sucks a nipple into his mouth and sucks.

In response to my comment, he pulls back from my chest and lifts his shirt over his head. My mind blanks as I stare at his body, which is all broad shoulders and lean, defined muscles. He’s almost too much, I think to myself. Before I can look my fill, he leans his big body over mine and starts to pepper warm kisses on my breasts again.

“Better, but I want to touch you, Theo.” My voice comes out as a whispered whine. “Please,” I beg as my fingers dig into his traps on a particularly delicious tug of his lips on one of my nipples. At my reaction, he tugs at the other nipple, which causes my back to arch into his touch.

Once again, he pulls back from my chest and looks up at me. Shy Theo has been replaced by confident Theo, and I feel the wetness pooling between my thighs at the determined look he gives me.

“You’ve had plenty of opportunities to touch me, Addy. I want to return the favor, please.” His eyes twinkle as he starts to kiss me down my chest and stomach, moving lower and lower. He hasn’t gone down on me yet, but I can’t help the involuntary rise of my hips as he gets closer to my center. “Tonight is all about you.”

“I can be on board with that.” Because come on now, who wouldn’t be?

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss right above the elastic of my panties. My breath hitches when he drags them down my hips and legs, a look of awe and excitement clear on his features as he stares at my core.

“Before we make it all about me, Theo, I do have one request.”

“What is it?” he asks, still staring at my rapidly drenching center.

“If it’s all about me, can you please get naked? I want to see you.” My words cause him to tear his eyes away until we’re making eye contact again. “I promise I’ll be good.”

A fierce blush colors his cheeks, and his words come out in a rush. “Okay, but keep your hands to yourself.”

“You’ve got it.”

I spread my arms and place my hands up and behind my head where they’ll behave. He looks on in satisfaction, and I watch as he strips completely. My breath catches in my throat when he kicks o his jeans and boxers, his hard dick bobbing free of his waistband. It’s really not fair how hot he is. He’s all lean strength and long limbs, and I almost regret telling him I’ll keep my hands to myself. Looks like I’ll have to improvise.

“Better?” he asks. He’s blushing furiously, but he doesn’t look self-conscious; he shouldn’t be, since he’s comfortable in his skin in a way only athletes have seemed to master.

“Yes, but I lied. I want a kiss too, please.”

He smiles as he starts to lean in and move up my body. I hold back a groan as his dick rubs against me, all hot velvet steel, and I can’t help the subtle wriggle of my hips.

“So demanding.” He delivers his words with a smile, and I can tell he doesn’t mind my demands at all.

“You have no idea.”

I return his smile and wait for him to rest his weight on mine. Instead, he props himself up so he’s hovering above me. He looks down at me for a few moments with joy shining in his eyes, his forearms on either side of my head. I lie back and stare up at him, content to let him take the lead.

Finally, he leans down and presses his warm lips on my forehead. His kisses travel across my face before descending to my mouth, which has parted in pleasure, and the pressure he gives me starts o sweet before turning passionate. The longer we kiss, the more I ache for him to touch me. I move my hands out from behind my head and fist them in the sheets, determined to keep them to myself, and the shift in position has the tips of my nipples rubbing against his sculpted chest. Theo groans at the contact, and the sound alone has me wanting more. Once I’m lying flat again, his body seems to chase mine of its own volition because his arms move. Instead of propping himself up, he settles his body on top of mine.

I moan loudly at the skin to skin contact; it’s the first time we’ve been completely naked together, let alone pressed against each other to this degree, and his smooth muscles and heavy weight feel divine. As our kisses becomes more desperate, our tongues dueling, I wiggle my hips and

place my legs on either side of his lean hips, my feet flat on the bed and my knees bent.

Theo tugs at my bottom lip with his teeth and moves his lips to my neck, and my back bow up in response. The movement causes my wet center to press against his hard dick, and I get an idea. I promised I’d keep my hands to myself, but I didn’t promise I’d keep other parts of my anatomy in check.

As he continues to kiss my neck, I arch up and rub myself against him in long, rolling drags. The sensation causes him to moan and breathe loudly against my neck, and he pulls back to look at me. His eyes are drunk with sensation, and they glaze over with lust when I rub against him again and again and again.

“Oh, God, Addy.” He sounds pained, and his breaths are ragged.

I think he’s going to pull away, but he surprises me when he resituates himself by placing both his hands under my butt and holds my lower half up. He’s on his knees now, and his dick is between us, so hard and ready, and I feel my mouth water when I see the glistening drop of his desire. His eyes are fixed on my pussy, and he lets out a low groan when he thrusts his hips and starts to rub me.

My own eyes roll to the back of my head at the feel of him gliding his length against me. He may not be inside me, but the rigid pressure and bump of his dick against my clit is amping up my desire. I force my eyes open to at look at him, and a few droplets of sweat are rolling down his chest.

I watch him and pluck at my nipples, and when he catches sight of me touching myself, he gasps. “I’m going to come if we k-keep doing this.” He presses against me harder, his pace slowing down, and I roll my hips back in answer.

“Okay,” I breathe out, ready for him to speed up.

To my utter disappointment and shock, he stops his movements and scoots away so we’re no longer making contact where I need it. Before I can ask what’s happening, he speaks.

“Tonight is all about you. You come first.” He shakes his head and seeks to gather his composure.

I marvel at his willpower, but the idea of coming has me twitching my hips again.

“Fine, do what you will.” I smile at him as I give in easily, and the answering grin he gives me makes my heart beat even faster.

“I will,” he says. After taking a few deep, steadying breaths, he finally leans in and spreads my legs wider with his hands on my inner thighs.

He stares at the most private part of me for long, drawnout moments, and I don’t even think he realizes he’s licked his lips. Instead of being shy, I can feel my arousal increase because I’m more than ready for Theo to round third base with those lush lips of his.

“I need you to do me a favor now, please,” he asks as he drags his eyes back up to meet mine.

“Anything.” My voice is breathless with anticipation.

“P-please tell me if I do something you like or don’t like.

I w-want to do this r-right. D-deal?”

My heart is pounding so loud, I have trouble hearing my own words. “You have yourself a deal.”

With a satisfied smile, Theo tears his eyes from mine and focuses once again on my increasingly dripping center. Time seems to slow as he leans down and finally presses a gentle kiss to my slit. His eyes flicker up to mine, and he must be satisfied with what he sees in my expression, because he does it again, this time with a little tongue.

I can’t help the moan that rips out of me as Theo starts to explore me with his lips and tongue. His touch starts out

slow and unsure, but he gains confidence the more I moan and gasp. Still, just like how he kisses me on my mouth, he takes his time down south. He kisses and licks me up and down my slit, and he licks his own lips every time the evidence of my arousal paints his mouth, as if he’s savoring my flavor. His fingers are gripping my thighs, but one hand moves to where his attention is centered. I feel him gently pry my lips apart, exposing my clit, but he surprises me when he lightly nips at my lips.

“Please, Theo, I need you to lick my clit. Please.” My plea is raspy and sounds desperate, but I’m past the point of caring.

His eyes flicker up to mine, and he considers my request briefly before giving me a very thorough lick from the bottom of my slit to the very top, just barely brushing my clit. I groan in frustrated pleasure because holy hell, does that feel good. He does it again, and with each pass of his tongue, he bumps against my clit with the barest amount of pleasure. Just when I’m about to beg him again, his tongue presses against my clit firmly and swirls around. A garbled cry leaves me as my hips jackknife o the bed, my body trying to get closer to the incredible sensation of his tongue.

He does it again and again, and a light sheen of sweat begins to cover my body as I get closer to reaching orgasm.

I almost cry when Theo pulls away, but he rubs circles around my clit with his finger before gently inserting his thick digit inside me. “Your t-tight pussy tastes so f-fucking good, Addy. I could go down on you all day.”

Hearing Theo talk dirty to me and curse almost pushes me over the edge into an orgasm. Almost. My eyes roll into the back of my head when Theo starts to pump his finger in and out of me slowly, and I moan loudly when his lips and tongue start to devour me with increased fervor.

“Oh, my God, please do that again,” I cry out when he presses against a sensitive spot inside me.

True to his word, Theo does it again and again, proving just how intent he is on making sure I feel good. I buck my hips when his fingers starts to move faster, and I choke on a gasp when he starts to lick tight, firm circles around my clit with his tongue.

“I’m almost there, Theo. I’m going to come soon if you keep doing that.”

At my words, he inserts another finger and presses more firmly on the magic spot inside me. In response, I reach down to grasp his head to hold him closer to me. Just when the pressure is almost too much, I shatter into the most powerful orgasm of my life when he starts to suck on my clit.

Between the incredible suction of his mouth, the rapid movements of his tongue, and his thick fingers moving inside me, my orgasm rides out in endless waves. He continues to pump into me with his fingers and lick my clit as I come, and it kicks me into another orgasm. The second one is less intense, but no less enjoyable. My thighs shake around his head, and Theo licks up the evidence of my orgasm as I twitch underneath him.

“Too much,” I say in a weak voice. He presses one more gentle kiss on my clit before pulling away from my still trembling center, and his eyes seek mine.

“How was that?” He looks nervous, but he also looks triumphant.

“What do you think?” My body is completely limp and sated from the attention he just gave me.

A shy, satisfied smile graces his lips as he gives me the same response I gave when I first went down on him.

“Judging from what just happened and your expression, I’d say I did a damn good job.”

“Damn right, you did,” I agree. “How’d you learn how to do that?”

Theo gives me a sheepish look when he says, “I’ve done my research.”

“Your research blew my mind. I’ve never...wow. It was wow, Theo.” I arch my back with a satisfied giggle. “Now that I know my boyfriend can eat me out like a champ, I’m never letting you go.”

Theo’s smile widens, and it’s then I realize what just slipped out of my mouth.

“B-boyfriend?”

“I mean...I know we haven’t labeled anything…” I can feel myself start to blush, and my vulnerability is all the more heightened because he’s still lying between my spread thighs.

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Addy?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, and I immediately relax.

“I guess I am, Theo. What of it?” I smile down my body at him, and his eyes twinkle back at me.

“I’d say it’s about time.” He smiles as he crawls up the bed to stretch out beside me. He runs a finger across my cheek tenderly and leans in for a soft, sweet kiss. “And,” he says as he pulls back with a teasing glint in his eyes, “I hope you keep me around for a long time because I’m always going to want to make you feel good.”

“Always, you say?”

He kisses the tip of my nose before pulling away with a mischievous grin. Before I can protest—not that I would, ’cause come on—he’s back between my legs and showing me that each time is going to be better than the last.

THIRTEEN THEO

I NEED to buy Cohen a gift basket or a drink or something because his advice was pure gold. I tried my best to remember what he said and follow his direction when I went down on Addy for the first time, and judging from the way she’s been initiating sexy time the past couple weeks, I’m honestly surprised he doesn’t have an even larger herd of women following him around. I turned Iron Man red when he asked me how everything worked out the first time we saw each other post-Mission Orange, and the smug grin and wink he gave me in response just showed how confident he is in his own abilities.

If I’ve learned anything since then the past few weeks, it’s to be confident in myself. Addy and I still haven’t had sex yet, and I’m glad that we’ve been taking our time. Outside of the time we’ve spent on bases one through three, the connection we have has been building naturally. I truly love spending time with her, and I’m so grateful she doesn’t try to force me to be anyone I’m not.

I think back to the last time I had a girlfriend, which was in high school, and the di erences between my ex and Addy are like comparing night and day. If my experiences over the years with bullies have taught me anything, it’s to embrace who I am. The negative attention I’ve received because of my

stutter has made me shy, but I’ve learned that being like everyone else isn’t necessarily a good thing. Unlike my ex, Addy accepts my Marvel-loving, sometimes stuttering, nerdy self just as I am. I’m a lucky guy, and instead of being afraid of my growing feelings for her, I’m diving in with both feet.

“You ready, hot stu ?” Addy bounds over and leaps into my arms, e ectively breaking me out of my musings.

“Ready when you are.” I spin her around before setting her down with a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go.”

We’re heading to an indoor skating rink for one of our dates, and while I only really excel in a swimming pool, I thought it’d be fun to try this out together. It’s a quick drive to the rink, and before I know it, we’re both lacing up our skates and heading onto the ice.

“Now I know why you picked this as a date.” Addy squints at me as she looks at me, and I can’t help but laugh at her funny facial expression. “I’m onto you, Theo.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep, you chose ice skating because it’s cold and we both suck at it, which means we need to bundle close together and basically be attached at the hip.” As she says this, she wobbles and almost falls, her arms flailing around like a windmill.

She manages to grab my arm to keep steady, and once she finds her equilibrium, she continues. “Basically, you want to be close to me.”

“If that were true, why bring you out in public? We could’ve just stayed in if you wanted to be close.” I raise an eyebrow and waggle it suggestively, which causes her to burst out laughing.

“Oh, my God, I’ve turned you into such a perv.” She slaps me on the chest playfully, and I chuckle at her words.

“You only have yourself to blame.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.”

We smile at one another and continue to make our rounds around the rink, getting more competent on our skates each rotation we make. Time passes quickly as we challenge each other to skate backward or across the rink without hugging the wall, but we always end up back together, our arms linked. Warmth fills my chest to have her by my side.

“You’re right, you know,” I say, filling the peaceful silence we were enjoying.

Addy glances up at me, and her nose and cheeks are flushed pink from the cold and exertion. “I’m always right,” she jokes. “But really, what was I right about?”

“I do want to be close to you,” I admit. “I a-always want to be c-close to you.” I keep my voice low, but I know she heard the words clearly.

At the sound of my stutter, she grips my arm tighter and pulls me toward her so we both stop. We’ve spent enough time together that she knows my stutter only makes itself known during moments of intense, rioting emotion.

“I always want to be close to you too, Theo.” Addy doesn’t look nervous at all at her proclamation, and knowing she enjoys being around me as much as I enjoy being around her makes my stomach flutter. “News flash,” she adds on. “I really like you.”

“I r-really l-like you too, Addy. A l-lot.”

Her answering smile is bright enough to melt the ice around us, and she opens up her mouth to respond. Right before she speaks, another voice cuts in.

“Theodork, is that you?”

A chill runs down my spine at the combination of that old moniker and the voice behind it. Addy and I both look toward the person who interrupted us, and I feel like I’ve been placed in a time machine. Instead of being a college student who’s overcome his stutter in most settings, I’m back in

middle and high school. In front of me is Brock Je ries, a bully from my past and probably the most persistent in keeping the Theodork campaign alive.

I do what I always did in school and ignore him. I try to move to skate away, but Addy stays standing in the same spot.

“His name is Theo, asshole.”

Oh, God. This isn’t happening right now.

I look to Brock, and he appears to be momentarily stunned by Addy’s outburst. I can imagine why. All the years he bullied me, I ignored him. Others, like Demi, followed my lead and didn’t say anything when it happened, and bullies eventually left me alone because they got bored. Brock, however, doesn’t seem to have changed. I feel bad for him, but I also feel anxiety at the triumphant gleam in his eyes.

He’s like a shark who’s caught the scent of blood, and he’s ready to feed after being hungry for a long, long time.

“It is you, Theodork. I almost didn’t recognize you, but I’d know that st-stutter anywhere.” He starts to laugh, and it’s then I notice his friends hanging back. To their credit, they look incredibly uncomfortable, but they also don’t do anything to reign their friend in. “What, you still can’t talk?

You gonna hide behind your little girlfriend now? M-man up, Theodork!”

“C-come on, Addy. L-let’s get out of here.” I reach for her hand since I don’t want to dignify his words with a response.

Instead of taking my hand, she looks at me with shock and indignation. Before the words even leave her lips, I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, the fluttering I felt earlier e ectively dead.

“You’re just going to let this douche talk to you like that, Theo?” Her voice rises in anger, and she turns to Brock, a

look of disgust marring her pretty features. “How old are you? Twelve? Grow up.”

Her words don’t anger Brock, who just laughs. “I am all grown, babe. You’re the one who’s dating a k-k-kid.”

Addy starts to move toward him as she says, “You know what, you can go f—” I halt her words and forward movement with my hand on her arm. “Addy, p-please, let’s just go.”

My quiet plea must finally break through her cloud of rage because she hu s out a breath, flips Brock o , and moves with me toward the exit. We don’t speak to each other as we turn in our skates and head to the car, and we don’t hold hands either. The short drive to her place feels interminably long and fraught with tension. It’s not until I’ve walked Addy to her front door that the silence is finally broken.

“What was that back there, Theo? Why’d you let that jackass walk all over you?” Her tone screams for justice, but her eyes are pleading for an explanation to help her understand.

A gusty sigh leaves me as I rub the bridge of my nose.

“I’ve known Brock for years, Addy. He feeds o attention. If you don’t give in and respond, he moves on. His antics don’t deserve a response. He’s your classic bully. I know how to deal with him; I did it enough growing up.”

“Please,” she sco s. “If that approach worked, he wouldn’t still be bullying you, now would he? How many years have passed since high school, Theo? Since middle school? You need to stick up for yourself. You deserve to stick up for yourself!” Her cheeks are turning red with her outrage at Brock, and her voice continues to rise.

“What I deserve is the right to choose how I respond to people who treat me like there’s something wrong with me.”

“Are we seriously fighting about this right now?” Before I can agree that we shouldn’t be arguing about this or suggest that we move on, she continues her tirade. “There’s nothing wrong with your stutter; you know I love it, but you really need to change how you deal with it.”

My blood runs cold at her words, and I feel some of my banked anger from earlier start to rise to the surface. “And how should I be dealing with it?”

“By not being a doormat! What’s wrong with defending yourself and letting people know you’re okay with your stutter?”

“I am okay with my stutter.”

“No, you’re not. You’re so self-conscious about it, you can’t even lecture our class because you’re so afraid of it coming out. You need to be more confident. Just own your stutter, Theo! Own it,” she ends on whisper.

It’s as if all other sound dies after her words are out in the open, and I hold my tongue before replying since it feels like I’m about to Hulk out.

I take a deep breath, searching for a way to explain in a way that’ll get through to her. “I do own it. It may not be to your standards or your definition of owning it, but I do. I’m okay with that. Do I still get shy about it? Self-conscious?

Yeah, but I accept that about myself. I. Own. It.” I punctuate each word with a fist against my chest. “And I own how I feel about it and how I let others make me feel about it.”

By the time I’m done speaking, Addy’s eyes are wide with surprise. “I get it, I do. You’ve come so far, but you can’t be a doormat when someone blatantly bullies you. They’re just going to do it again. Tonight is a prime example. You can’t keep running. That’s what you’re doing, and you need to stop doing it.”

“I don’t need to do anything. Stop trying to ch-change me.” My words sound broken, and I can’t help but think I

spoke too soon earlier when I thought she accepted me as I am.

She gives me an exasperated sigh. “I’m not trying to change you. I’m trying to help you.”

“You are trying to change me. My ex tried to do that, and everyone who g-gets on me about m-my stutter is unconsciously doing the s-same. Just let me be. Please.”

A furrow creases her brow, and her eyes flash in what I guess is frustration or determination.

“I just want to help you be normal, Theo!” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, her face pales in horror. “Oh, my God. I didn’t mean it like that—” “But you did, Addy. You did,” I interrupt.

“I’m so sorry. Please, I just hate seeing you get picked on.”

She moves toward me and tries to grab my arm, but I move farther away from her and her front door. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

I almost take back my words at the sight of her eyes shining with unshed tears, but I hold my ground.

“Don’t run from this too, Theo.”

Before I can stop myself, a cynical laugh breaks free. “I’m not running, Addy. We obviously disagree, and I just need some space. I need a break.”

“A break? Does this mean you’re breaking up with me?”

“No, I’m not breaking up with you. I just...you really messed with my head, Addy. I need sp-space. Please,” I implore.

“For how long?”

I brace myself for the answer I’m about to give, and I can’t fight the grimace twisting my lips. “This coming week is finals week. How about we w-wait until it’s o-over? It’ll give us t-time to think and c-cool down. Please just give me time.”

The stars leave her eyes as she watches me sadly, but when she speaks she sounds forlorn and resigned. “Okay, Theo. I know we don’t see eye to eye on what happened, and I’m truly sorry about how my words came across. I’ll give you your space, but if you decide to break up with me, please don’t string me along. Can you give me that, please?”

In this moment, I’d give everything to be a superhero from the comics I love so much. If I could, I’d rewind time and erase everything that happened at the skating rink and after. Unfortunately, I’m normal and embarrassed and hurting and conflicted. I’m human, and I’m not sure what to do. I can feel my throat start to close up at Addy’s request.

Unable to say anything, I stare into her eyes as I nod. Her lips lift into a wan smile, and I turn to leave without hugging or kissing her goodbye.

Before my back is fully turned, I glimpse the hurt in Addy’s expression and can’t miss the single tear tracking down her cheek. I almost stop, but I keep walking away, each step heavier than the last. I have no intention of making her wait in limbo for very long, but I need time to process everything. How do we bounce back from this, especially if it happens again? I may not know for sure, but I do know one thing: one of us will have to compromise. I’m just not sure that person can be me.

FOURTEEN ADDY

T HE POUNDING of my head wakes me up, and I groan in misery, eyes still closed, as the events of last night play like a movie reel in my brain. My splitting headache and swollen eyelids are nothing compared to the aching of my heart as I recall what I told Theo.

“I just want to help you be normal.” I cringe. My words will haunt me, only to be surpassed in pain-filled remembrance at the thought of Theo’s face.

“I’m such a bitch,” I declare out loud.

Shame heats my face, and I fight to keep the tears at bay.

I really hope I didn’t ruin things with Theo. I suck in a fractured breath, hoping to fortify myself against the riot of emotions threatening to burst forth and overwhelm me. I hate the idea of leaving things how we left them and letting the hurt fester for an entire week, but he’s entitled to his space. If I’m being honest with myself, this is probably a smart decision. I’m not even sure how I feel about everything.

Did I push him too far?

Did I overstep my bounds?

Am I really trying to change him?

Thinking about all of this isn’t exactly helping my migraine, but I deserve to deal with the pain. I roll out of

bed, determined to try and be a human, and pad over to the shower. On my way in, my phone pings with a message. My heart stops for a beat. Could it be Theo?

My eyes swivel to my nightstand, where I usually keep my phone, and it isn’t there. Another ping comes through, and I frantically move about my room to try and find my cell.

Rifling through my purse doesn’t reveal my phone, and neither does the rumpled heap of clothes I shed last night before falling into bed. I leap onto my bed and toss some throw pillows around—seriously, why do I have this many pillows?—when I hear the third ping. Flinging my blanket in the air, I’m almost hit in the face by my phone. I scramble to catch it and glance down at my notification screen.

My hope fizzles out when I see Theo hasn’t texted.

Instead, an unknown number shows in my notification screen, but I can’t see the message. Swallowing my disappointment, I press my thumb down to open my screen.

Unknown: Hey Addy, it’s Demi. I got your number from Theo’s phone.

Unknown: He doesn’t know I’m reaching out, but he’s asleep, so I’m taking advantage.

Unknown: We should talk. You free to meet up for co ee?

Curiosity slams into me. Is she angry, and is she angry enough to do something about it? I don’t know Demi well enough, but I think if she were in the mood to kick my ass to defend her bestie, she’d succeed. Between her protective nature and my guilt, worrying, and overall crappy state of mind, it wouldn’t be much of match. Shit, I’m inclined to let her.

While there’s a strong possibility she’s pissed, the tone of her texts don’t convey a desire to take out her aggression on me physically. Besides, she isn’t a bully. I have a feeling Demi has something else in mind. But what is it? Only one way to find out.

I save her number before texting back, and her response is almost immediate. We work out a time and place to meet, not mincing words, and I place my phone down when our exchange is over. With any luck, Demi will be able to help me out. Time to go find out what she wants.

The chime of the doorbell signals my entrance into my favorite co ee shop, and the fragrant smells of ground co ee beans and fresh croissants provides comfort and familiarity. A scan of the quirky shop shows me Demi isn’t here yet, so I get in line and order a hazelnut latte with almond milk for me and a peppermint hot chocolate for her.

I take a seat at an empty booth facing the door, and Demi breezes in right as our drinks are delivered. Perfect timing.

She quickly spots me and heads over, sans smile. Unease swirls in my stomach.

“Hey,” I say with a lackluster wave. “I ordered you a peppermint hot chocolate. Theo’s mentioned it’s your favorite.” Just saying his name makes my heart squeeze in remorse.

“Thank you.” Her words are polite, but her gaze remains somber as she unfurls her scarf from around her neck.

I wait in awkward silence as she gets settled, not knowing how to start the conversation. Her co ee mug is cradled between her palms when she finally speaks.

“You know why I wanted to meet with you, right?”

“To curse me out? To tell me I messed things up? To tell me I’ll never find someone like Theo again?”

A small smile twitches at the corners of Demi’s lips as she shakes her head. “You already know the answers to those questions already. No, I’m not that type of person. Yes, you messed things up, and yes, you’ll never find someone like Theo. What I’m here to tell you is what you don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Addy.” Demi cocks an eyebrow at me over the lip of her mug before she takes a sip. “I know Theo better than anyone, and you hurt him. As much as I’d love to punch you in the face—again, not that type of person—I also know you make my best friend happy. There’s a lot you don’t know.”

“Listen—” “No.” The implacable tone matches the steely glint in her eyes as she cuts me o . “You listen, Addy. From what Theo told me last night, you did a lot of talking and not a lot of listening. I’m going to need you to just keep your mouth shut, listen, and try to understand where he’s coming from.

You got it?”

I’m stunned into momentary silence by her protectiveness, so I simply nod.

She inclines her head in approval and takes another sip of her cocoa before she starts.

“He’s probably mentioned it before, but Theo and I grew up together. We were neighbors as children, and we quickly became best friends. I’m a few years younger than you two, but we really hit it o . Being as close as we are, I’ve witnessed everything he’s been through and everything he’s done to own his stutter.

“I don’t know what it is about people being di erent that brings out the inner asshole in some people, but Theo was like a magnet for bullies. I know he wears glasses now, but he had these really huge, thick frames when he was a kid.”

She’s staring into her mug, a small smile on her face, but her eyes shine with tears when she glances back up at me. “He also carried comic books around with him wherever he went, which I guess he still kinda does today. These weren’t enough to bring unwanted attention to him, although they did draw the eye. Unfortunately, it was his stutter that bullies honed in on. Theo’s naturally quiet and nonconfrontational, so looking back, it’s almost like these qualities made it worse because he was a challenge.”

Sadness engulfs me as I picture Theo as a young boy with big glasses and unruly hair, getting picked on for something he can’t control. My throat clogs with emotion, and I’m grateful Demi is speaking.

“He’d get picked on constantly, and it always seemed to fall in a cycle. It’d always start the first year or so when he started a new school, and then it would taper o once people got used to it and realized he didn’t respond to their jibes.

But some of these little assholes were persistent, Brock being one of them. But you know what? Theo was the bigger person every. Single. Time. He never retaliated. Never gave in. Never cried. He’s so strong.”

Pride and love and sadness resonate clearly in her voice.

“Outside of our families where he’s comfortable, Theo’s dealt with a lot. He spent years being ridiculed by others and being told how to act; all that crap takes a toll on you. He didn’t tell his mom about the bullying, at least not until he was older and could help out. I don’t know if he told you, but his dad passed away when he was just a kid. There was a time for a while where his mom struggled to make ends meet, and he knew that if he brought up the bullying, she’d break her back working so he could go to therapy. She knows he’s perfect as is, but she’s protective and never wants him feeling less than everyone else.

“One day, he made the choice to overcome his stutter in his own way. On his terms. He’s been to the specialists. He’s been to the therapy sessions. He contributed money from summer jobs toward treatment to help his mom because he didn’t want to be a burden. He’s now at a place where it only comes out sometimes, and he’s so proud of that. I’m so proud of that.”

Heat creeps up my neck and into my cheeks at her words.

I had no idea the bullying was that bad, and I wasn’t aware he sought treatment. I open my mouth to speak, but Demi shakes her head when she catches the movement.

Message received: I’m still supposed to listen.

“That’s when he was fifteen. A couple years later, he started dating. I mean, Theo might be kinda nerdy and wouldn’t be classified as the most popular guy in school, but you have eyes. He’s a good-looking guy. He’s been an avid swimmer since he was a kid, so he came into his swimmer’s build early. Teenage girls notice that shit, and he started to get some positive attention from the girls at school.

“He started dating this girl named Ti any, and she was pretty, somewhat popular, and the complete opposite of him in terms of interests. But hey, it happened. Anyway, they seemed fine the first few weeks, but then she started to try and change things about him. She’d suggest he wear contacts instead of glasses. She’d go shopping with him so she could have a say in his wardrobe. She’d complain if he wanted to watch a superhero movie. She’d whine if he wanted to hang out with me because she was insecure. She’d also get supremely embarrassed if he stuttered. She hated it.

When he was made fun of for his stutter in front of her, she didn’t say a damn thing. Instead, she laughed. I still want to punch that bitch in the face after all these years, but thankfully Theo was wise enough to break up with her. Still, that experience left a lasting impression on him.”

I watch her hands flex in anger and can’t help chiming in.

“But I’ve done none of that, Demi. I love his glasses, and I think he looks great. I’m down for superhero movies, I’m totally for him hanging out with you, and I think his stutter is the cutest thing ever. I think he’s perfect just the way he is.”

She gives me a long, measuring look. “No, you don’t. You want him to be, quote unquote, normal. You want him to stick up for himself when he gets bullied. How is that not wanting to change him?”

“How is that a bad thing to want to change? He shouldn’t have to quietly accept being verbally tormented by some immature jerks.”

“Have you not heard a thing I’ve told you?” She’s starting to sound stabby, and I warily eye her clenching fists. “It isn’t your way or the highway when it comes to dealing with things, Addy. Theo handles his stutter the best he can, and he does it on his terms. His, no one else’s. You want him to do what? Get in someone’s face every time they make fun of him? They win that way because that’s exactly what they want.

“He sought therapy because it’s what he wanted, and he’s taking the high road now. Theo doesn’t care about the bullies because, at the end of the day, he’s happy with himself. His stutter makes him shy, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Respect him enough to let him handle things as he sees fit.

He’s a grown man, and if he doesn’t want to empower those assholes, respect that. You saying he needs to change and be normal makes him feel like there’s something wrong with him. That he should change. That he isn’t enough exactly the way he is.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until Demi pulls a napkin from the holder and hands it to me, gesturing toward my face. I

hastily swipe at my cheeks and underneath my eyes, digesting her words.

“I wish he would’ve told me all this before,” I whisper.

“He shouldn’t have to.” So simple, yet so true. “Let me ask you this: if what happened last night happens again and you’re there to witness it, can you really live with a repeat? If the answer is no, then you’ll have to learn to live without Theo.”

The tears start to track down my face again. I royally screwed things up.

“I’m not gonna lie. If it happened again, I would hate it. I don’t like seeing people belittle him, which makes it hard to turn a blind eye. But if he wants to ignore it, I can learn to live with it. I really care about him.”

My admission eases some of the ache in my chest and warms it at the same time. Am I falling in love with Theo?

One thing at a time, Addy. Focus on how to fix things first.

“And he cares about you, which is why I’m here. I know it’s finals week, but there’s a toga party happening at one of the frat houses this weekend to celebrate the end of the semester. You should go.”

Confusion wrinkles my brow at her sudden invitation, but her pointed stare makes me wonder if there’s more to the invite than she’s letting on. “Will he be there?”

“Oh, he’ll be there. Parties aren’t his scene, but I know he’ll go with me if I beg.”

“You’re so sure about that?”

A smug smile graces her lips. “Yep, I’m sure. He’s feeling down, so he’ll want to get out of the house. I’ll say I plan on meeting a guy there and need his moral support. He owes me one.”

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I decide to give Demi’s plan a chance. We were going to talk this weekend anyway, so this will hopefully speed things up.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

“Perfect. I’ll arrive with Theo, and I’ll make sure we run into you. Don’t worry about the details. Once you two see each other, I’ll run o and give you two time to talk.”

“That works for me.”

Silence fills the space between us, so we take a moment to finish our drinks in silence. Since this isn’t the typical catchup with your girlfriend type of thing, I make an excuse that I should go study.

As we’re leaving the café, bundled back up again to stay warm against the cold, Demi turns to look at me, a serious expression on her face.

“I’m telling you now, Addy, if you screw this up again, I will punch you in the face.”

“I thought you weren’t that kind of girl.”

“Yeah, not normally, but I’m not afraid to become that girl. You’ve gotta get down and dirty sometimes to make a point or to get what you want.”

“Remind me not to cross you again.”

Demi shoots me a small smile. “I’ll text you the full party deets once I have them. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Thanks for your help, Demi. I know your loyalties lie with Theo, but I appreciate your help.”

“This is why I’m doing it,” she replies. “For him. I like you, and so does Theo. Please think about what I said. I’ll see you soon. Later, Addy.”

With a wave goodbye, Demi turns and heads down the sidewalk toward her car.

I watch her walk away before turning around and heading to my own vehicle. I really hope we can fix what went wrong and that I can show him I accept him as he is because my relationship with him is worth it.

He’s worth it.

FIFTEEN THEO

“A RE you sure this is what you’re s-supposed to wear to these kinds of parties?” I ask as I adjust the white strip of fabric draped over one shoulder and around my hips. Leave it to college students to throw a toga party in winter. “And are you sure I need to be there? I’d rather stay home.”

“It’s a toga party, so yes.” Demi looks over and must see the discomfort on my face. “Aw, don’t be shy, Theo. You look great. You’re doing the ladies a disservice by hiding these abs away, you closet hottie,” she jokes. She playfully smacks me against my stomach before leveling me with a thoughtful stare. “And yes, I’m sure you need to be there. You owe me one, and you need to stop moping around the house. I know things are weird with you and Addy, but you’re set to talk to her this weekend. Cut loose tonight and give me some moral support. It’s been forever since a guy’s been interested in me.”

“Is that who you keep texting?” I eye her cell suspiciously. Who is this guy?

“None of your business.” She clutches her phone to her chest, hiding the screen from me.

“I’m going to find out eventually, Demi.”

“Yeah, well, eventually isn’t right now. How do I look?”

“Like a goddess,” I answer honestly. Her wavy tresses are braided away from her face into a messy bun at the base of her neck, and the style perfectly suits the long toga she’s wearing. I’m used to Demi wearing glasses and covering up so that she’s not showing a lot of skin, but she’s di erent tonight. She’s wearing the contacts she so rarely uses, and while her toga covers her skin, it hugs her figure more than her usual clothing. It’s odd seeing her curves on display, and a feeling of protectiveness surges through me as I look at her. “This mystery guy better treat you like one.”

“We’ll see,” she chirps. “And thank you, Theo. You’re so sweet.”

She leans in to give me a hug and a friendly peck on the cheek, which I return.

“Ready to get this toga party over with?”

“I sure am. I think you’ll be surprised by how much you enjoy it, Theo.”

Doubtful, but I’m willing to give it a shot. As we make the short drive over to the frat house hosting the party, I can’t help but think of Addy.

This week without her has been awful. Between my own classes and helping Cohen, finals week has kept me extremely busy, so much so that I barely had a moment to let myself think of other things. Outside of studying and working, the only bright spots in my day have come from my now doubled visits to the pool and Demi distracting me.

Our week is just about up, and I plan on taking Demi’s advice. I’ll support my best friend tonight, but I fully intend on visiting Addy tomorrow and talking things out. The time apart has helped me realize she does have a point. I’ve come a long way to manage and accept my stutter, but there are still times where I get self-conscious about it. I don’t know if that’ll ever go away, but I’m man enough to admit how things are.

Demi’s voice breaks through the fog of my thoughts. “You ready?”

I shake my head to clear my girlfriend from the forefront of my mind and see that we’re already parked on the street where the party is being held. “I guess.”

We unbuckle and head up to the house, making our way around abandoned red cups while the bass from the music inside thumps into the night. Students wearing togas in various degrees of indecency mingle around the front door and in the entryway, the crush of bodies becoming more dense the farther we head in.

I lean down to speak in Demi’s ear so she can hear me.

“Where’s your guy?”

She fires o a text and glances around the crowded living room, clearly searching for him. “Who?” “Um, your guy?”

“Oh, yeah. Him.” Her gaze flickers around again. “He’s around here somewhere. I’ll be right back. If I don’t see you before the night is over, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Before I can say anything or question why I wouldn’t see her later on tonight, she darts o into the throng of people who are mingling, dancing, or chugging alcohol.

Discomfort and feelings of awkwardness start to creep in as I stand here alone, the toga and boxer briefs I’m wearing making me feel even more exposed. I look out over the sea of people around me, almost desperate to find Demi or someone else I recognize, when I feel a gentle poke in my ribs.

Turning to look at what jabbed me, I find a pair of blondes who look vaguely familiar peering up at me. They’re both wearing togas, except their variation is a lot more revealing than Demi’s.

“Theo?” one titters, red-cheeked and smiling.

“Yes?” Why are they talking to me, and where do I know them from?

“Theo Cadwell?” the other asks, placing emphasis on my last name.

“That’s me. Can I help you?” My brow furrows in confusion as I look at them.

“Oh, my God. I told you it was him!” The first girl ignores me as she glances at her friend triumphantly. She looks back to me and continues to clarify. “You’re our TA in our class with Wilder. We were debating on whether or not you were, well, you.”

They both giggle at that statement, and I look between the two, completely lost. “Um, why wouldn’t I be me?”

More laughter. “Well, we didn’t recognize you. You’re so…” the second girl trails o as her eyes scan me from waist to chin, lingering over my exposed skin. I can see her friend doing the same out of the corner of my eye, and my face warms at their slow perusal of my body. “You don’t seem the party type. Not to mention, you certainly don’t dress like this in class.”

I state the obvious. “Class isn’t a toga party.”

My unenthusiastic response doesn’t deter them.

“Clearly,” they both say at the same time.

“I’m Sonya,” the first girl says with a little wave. “This is Lydia.” She gestures to her friend with a tilt of her head.

“Imagine our surprise when the hottie we were checking out from across the room turned out to be the very same TA we see every Thursday. Except now, you look a lot less...buttoned up.”

They both lock eyes and laugh.

“I’m s-sorry? W-what?” I’m caught o guard by the blatant admission to checking me out.

“How cute is that stutter?” Lydia asks Sonya.

I’m mentally taken aback by the realization that people other than Addy find my stutter attractive, but I’m even more surprised that I don’t give a shit what they think. The only person who I care about liking my stutter is my girlfriend, and I feel my heart squeeze at the thought of her.

“Thanks.” I need to extricate myself from this conversation.

“Of course,” Sonya—or is it Lydia?—purrs. “If you’re up for it, we’d love to show you a good time.” She pauses, staring at me as I look down at the two of them. “Together,” she emphasizes with a smirk and lift of a manicured eyebrow.

Embarrassment dawns on me as I realize what they’re implying. “Thanks, but n-no thanks. I have a g-girlfriend.”

How is this happening to me? I glance up, looking for an escape, when my eyes land on the last person I expected to see across the room.

“Addy.” Her name leaves my lips on a sigh, nearly silent but heavy with longing.

Thankfully, the blonde duo doesn’t hear me, nor do they look overly put out. “Well, if you’re ever single or change your mind, our o er still stands.”

Manners escape me as I mutter a despondent “thanks” and step around them to move toward Addy.

Outside of a brief glimpse of her on Thursday during finals, we haven’t seen each other, and we definitely haven’t spoken. It’s only been a week, but with how we left things, it was a week too long.

I miss her. Desperately.

My eyes drink in her profile greedily, cataloguing every detail as I maneuver through the group of people on my way to her.

She’s a vision in a short toga, the white fabric emphasizing her lithe figure and the golden tones of her

skin.

My fingers itch to touch the honey-blonde hair cascading down her back, looking even more golden because of the burnished laurel headband adorning her like a crown.

Her flat stomach is bare but for the twisted fabric of the dress crisscrossing her midsection, and pride and disbelief war within me that I’m the one she’s dating.

She hasn’t seen me yet, and I’m half the distance to her when she turns, a ording me a clearer view of her face.

I falter, my steps halting when I see a scowl on her normally smiling face. The indignant expression she’s wearing is at odds with the lively party going on around her, and when she opens her mouth to say something, a brawny arm reaches out to grip her arm and pull her close. My eyes immediately swivel to whoever just grabbed her, and ice runs through my veins when I realize who it is.

Brock.

SIXTEEN ADDY

T HIS NIGHT ISN ’ T GOING how I imagined it would.

Things were o to a great start when I got the details from Demi, and we were texting back and forth to make sure we were both on the same page. The plan was to get dolled up, show up, and casually bump into Theo.

Well, here I am, dolled up, shown up, and not bumping into my boyfriend.

Instead, I’m standing here, lost in a crush of people as I wait for Theo and Demi to walk by at some point. Her text from a few minutes ago said they arrived, and I’m trying my best not to scan the party for them.

Stay cool.

Stay casual.

I’m hanging out in the living room, which I thought would be the best spot since I have a clear view into the kitchen and entryway to the frat house. It’s a great place strategically, but it also puts me in everyone else’s line of sight, too. In the past fifteen minutes, I’ve had to turn down a dance from a drunken jock, decline drinks from guys I don’t know and have no interest in getting to know, and make awkward small talk with someone who claims to have had a class with me.

The awkward small talk girl is finally dragged away by a friend, and I breathe in a sigh of relief at being alone again. I definitely don’t miss this scene or the guys who love it. Now that I know Theo’s here, I just need to be patient for a little while longer.

Just as I think this, I feel a warm presence at my back. I can feel my lips start to lift in a smile—I really hope it’s Theo—but they immediately turn down when the person behind me speaks.

“Oh, damn, it’s Theodork’s little girlfriend.”

Ugh, of all places to see Brock, he has to be here.

I try to take a page from Theo’s book and ignore him.

Don’t engage, don’t engage, don’t engage, I repeat to myself.

“Who knew the little nerd could get such a hot piece of ass?” Juvenile gu aws follow his words, and I can feel my ire start to rise.

Oh, hell no, he did not just say that.

I turn to look at him, daggers in my eyes, a frown twisting my lips, and venom dripping from my words.

“Oh, damn, it’s Brock, the asshole. Who knew his dick would be as small as his mind? Oh, wait, I did. Jealous of Theo much?”

His eyes widen in surprise before they narrow angrily at me. I shouldn’t have said anything, but seeing his friends try to stifle their laughter at my retort has me feeling all sorts of satisfied.

“Why would I be jealous of that loser?”

“Besides the fact that Theo’s smarter, better-looking, and an all around much nicer person than you? He’s also got a huge dick, and he has nothing to prove to anyone by being a full-time douchecanoe.”

It seems as if I’ve hit a nerve and crossed a line because Brock’s face reddens as he takes a menacing step toward me.

He looks apoplectic with rage, and his big arm darts out and grasps my arm roughly.

“If you like dick so much, I’m happy to show you a real man’s.”

Fear courses through me at his words. “Let go of me, asshole!” I smack his fist with my hand, but he doesn’t budge.

I can’t tear my eyes o Brock, but I can feel the crowd around me start to stir at the commotion.

“Where’s your little boyfriend, huh? No one to s-save you now?” he mocks, taunting me as he tightens his grip.

“I’m right here,” a low, possessive voice rumbles from my left. Shock jolts my eyes away from Brock’s face, and I watch in awe as a very familiar forearm reaches out and grips Brock’s wrist. “Let Addy go, Brock. I’ll only say it once.”

Brock looks elated to see Theo, and it’s then I realize I’ve inadvertently caused him to do what he’s been so studiously avoiding for years: engage with Brock.

“Not gonna let your girlfriend fight your battles this time around, Theodork?”

My gaze slides to my boyfriend, and I hardly recognize him. Besides the revealing toga showing o the broad expanse of his shoulders and lean, cut torso, his expression is fierce. Looking at him, I feel like a di erent man altogether replaced my sweet, non-confrontational boyfriend in the week we’ve been apart.

Brock doesn’t seem to notice any of this because he continues to run his mouth.

“I was just o ering to show her a good time. Her pussy must be good for a nerd like you to whip his dick out.” He shakes my arm roughly as he says this, causing me to whimper in pain.

As if in slow motion, I see Theo’s jaw and body tense at the sound. Before I can blink and truly comprehend what’s happening, his hand rears back and punches Brock squarely in the nose.

Blood gushes down Brock’s face at the painful crack, and a collective gasp ripples and echoes through the now quiet room. He let go of me when Theo’s fist made contact with his nose, and I’m relieved when I’m moved behind Theo and a few other bystanders.

Brock appears stunned as he stares at his blood-speckled hands for a moment, but he quickly morphs into a bull seeing red. An enraged roar fills the air, and he charges at Theo.

To my surprise and relief, Theo calmly steps forward, sti -arms Brock, moves behind him, and brings him to his knees. His arm is locked around Brock’s neck, and his forearm presses down on his throat, veins bulging with the e ort.

Brock flails and sputters in his grasp, but he’s unable to break free of the tight hold. Both his hands are scrabbling at Theo’s forearm, and he starts to tap his hands once his face starts to turn a mottled shade of purple.

Theo lets up on his throat, giving him a little breathing room before he leans down to speak in his ear. “I t-told you I w-wouldn’t say it again. Now apologize.”

He sounds so calm, but my heart squeezes when I hear his stutter. This whole ordeal is costing him more than he’s letting on.

“Dude, I’m sorry,” Brock sputters.

His words quickly die o when Theo tightens his forearm on his neck again. “N-not to me. To her,” he says as he jerks Brock’s body so he’s facing me. “I d-don’t give a shit what you s-say or do to me, but you crossed a line by bringing my

g-girlfriend into this. You definitely crossed a line when you t-touched her. Apologize to her. N-now.”

“I’m sorry. It w-won’t happen again.”

It’s ironic that he’s stuttering now when that’s what he’s tormented Theo over, and I stare him down.

“Sucks when the tables have been turned on you, huh?” I can’t help but say, hoping the truth of my words washes over him.

“It does. I’m really sorry.”

I can’t tell if he’s sincere in his apology, but I decide to be the bigger person. “Even though you don’t deserve it, I forgive you.”

A look of relief passes over his face before panic flares up again when Theo leans down to speak in his ear.

“I’ve ignored your shit for years, never defended myself because you. Are. Not. Worth. It. But this beautiful girl is, so if you ever touch or verbally abuse her again, I will not hesitate to finish what I started tonight. Got it?”

His words are soft and crystal clear with conviction, his stutter gone in the face of his certainty.

With a whispered “yes,” Brock nods his head as much as he can while still in Theo’s hold. When he’s finally released, he sucks in big gulps of air but stays down on his knees. He looks thoroughly embarrassed as he looks out at the crowd that has gathered, but shock washes over his features when Theo moves to face him and extends his hand to help him up.

Overwhelming pride and gratitude and love cause my eyes to water. Not only is Theo the bigger person, he’s one of the best people I know.

I can see Brock’s hand shake as he accepts assistance, and when he stands, I’m close enough to hear Theo’s whispered words. “Try to be a d-decent human being, okay?”

An emphatic nod is all Brock can muster before he scurries away with his cronies close behind. It’s not until they’re out of sight that Theo realizes all eyes are on him. He flushes under the scrutiny, but before he can say anything, a tall guy with a frat t-shirt over his toga strides up to him and claps him on the back.

“Bro, you are a badass. Way to handle that with class. Can we get this man a beer?”

A cheer resounds, and a beer is pressed into Theo’s palm.

“Th-thank you.” The blush staining his cheeks is adorable, and I can see the adrenaline start to leave his body as he tries to process what just went down.

“No problem, dude. You gotta do what you gotta do to protect your lady. You’re the baddest nerd I’ve ever met,” the frat guy jokes. “I’ll be part of your nerd herd any day.”

An awkward laugh leaves Theo’s throat, but he leans in to whisper something into the guy’s ear. I can’t hear what’s being said anymore since the party is slowly coming back to life, but the frat guy grasps his shoulder in acknowledgement and moves away.

“Let the festivities recommence, folks!” he shouts out to the rest of the house as he steps away. His declaration is met with cheers, and it seems to jumpstart the people around us into action.

The party around us comes back to life, but Theo’s gaze is steadfastly trained on me. We stare at each other across the few feet separating us, and we both move in tandem until we’re toe to toe. I look up at him, an apology and thank you ready on my lips, but he lifts a hand and gently presses a finger against my lips.

“C-can we go outside, please? We n-need to t-talk.”

His stutter signals that he’s nervous, and my tummy flips with butterflies. I nod in response and follow him out to the backyard, relief hitting me when he wraps my hand in his.

It’s not until we reach a secluded corner of the yard, far from prying eyes and ears, that we sit down on a bench and face each other. A few weighted moments of silence hang between us before Theo speaks.

“Are you okay?” His warm brown irises shine with concern as they rake over me.

“Yes, thanks to you.” Emotion clogs my throat as the events of this evening and the last week come rushing back.

“I’m so sorry about everything, Theo.”

I launch myself into his arms, taking comfort in his strong embrace. I can hear his heart thumping wildly beneath his mostly bare chest, and I snuggle as close as possible before he pulls away.

“N-no need to be s-sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. It was unfair to ask you to wait a week to talk things out. We could’ve avoided all this tonight if we had t-talked things out sooner.”

Regret and self-blame lace his words and tug at my heartstrings. Time to set my man straight.

“You stop that right now,” I admonish. “Who knows how things would’ve played out? What matters is you were there for me tonight, and I can’t express how grateful I am. I feel terrible for berating you in the first place, and I feel even worse that you gave in to Brock’s taunting tonight when you’ve avoided doing so all these years. I...I talked to Demi,” I confess.

Theo’s brows rise at this little tidbit, but his lack of verbal response prompts me to further explain.

“She told me about the therapy and all you’ve done to get where you are today, and she told me about your ex. Her perspective on things opened up my eyes to how I was acting. I just...I’m so sorry I pushed you,” I rush out. “And I’m sorry for the terrible things I said. I truly don’t want to change you, but it hurts me to see you belittled for

something that makes you who you are. You have nothing to be ashamed of with your stutter. You’re perfect the way you are, Theo, and if you choose not to respond to what jerks might say, I can respect that. I always knew it, but I saw firsthand tonight that you’re the bigger person. It was clear Brock wanted you to respond, and I feel like I helped you play right into his hand.”

A few silent tears track down my cheeks as the guilt eats at me, and I hiccup when he reaches over to wipe them gently o my face.

“I think it’s safe to say we were both wrong about some things. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, you were right, Addy.” I open my mouth to refute this statement, but he shushes me with a chaste kiss on the lips. “I’ve come a long way to manage my stutter, but I still get a little too preoccupied with it sometimes. It’s a p-part of me I haven’t fully accepted or embraced, but I plan to work on it some more. I can admit this, but what I told Brock tonight was the truth. I don’t care what he says to me, or anyone else for that matter. Their words mean nothing, but when someone uses words or actions to hurt you, that’s when I care. That’s when I’ll step in. Besides, I think he’ll leave both of us alone from now on, don’t you think?”

I laugh at the pride evident in his voice. “Maybe some people do like to learn things the hard way. Besides, you defending my honor was a huge turn-on.”

Theo laughs at that. “Oh, really? I’ll keep that in mind.”

He’s still smiling, but his expression sobers a bit. “Do you remember what I told you during our swimming lesson?”

My heart squeezes at the reminder, and I nod as a watery smile spreads across my face. “You said you’d always keep me safe.”

He cups my face, and his thumbs caress my jaw as he presses his forehead against mine and stares into my eyes.

“And I meant it. I’ll always keep you safe. If that means pushing myself outside of my comfort zone, I’ll do it.

There’s nothing I won’t do for you. I-I-I…” he stutters and takes a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m f-falling for y-you, Addy,” he whispers.

Joy floods my system like sunlight reaching the darkest corners of the world, warming me up from the inside out. I can’t help the blinding smile I can feel spreading across my face.

“Well, Theo, I happen to be falling for you, too.”

I capture his surprised intake of breath with a kiss that quickly turns from sweet to scorching. We get lost in each’s lips, familiarizing ourselves once again with the taste and feel of each other. I’m not sure how much time passes, but Theo ends the kiss before I’m ready for it to stop. I lean in to chase his mouth, and his low chuckle causes my tummy to riot with arousal.

“I need you to clarify something for me, please.”

His tone is teasing and playful.

“Whatever you want, hot stu .”

“Did you tell Brock I have a huge dick earlier?”

A heated blush smudges my cheeks, but I stick by what I said. “Yes, but don’t let it get to your head.”

Theo throws his head back on a boisterous laugh. “You’re so punny.”

“Oh, my God. You are such a nerd.” I mean it as a term of endearment, and I know Theo takes it that way when he smiles fondly at me over his thick frames.

“Yeah, but I’m your nerd,” he says as he leans in to press a kiss against my nose.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way, I think to myself.

SEVENTEEN ADDY

Three Months Later “H APPY B IRTHDAY , HOT STUFF !” I squeal as I launch myself into Theo’s arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and knock his glasses askew with my enthusiasm.

His deep chuckle vibrates against my chest as he walks into my new apartment, shuts the door, and makes his way over to the couch with me still attached to him like a barnacle.

“Someone’s eager,” he teases as he sits us down with me straddling his narrow hips.

Hell yeah, I’m eager.

Ever since finals week a few months ago when our relationship was tested, our connection has only grown stronger. Things have been a little hectic recently what with me graduating Cornell with my bachelors degree, hunting for and securing a job, and moving into my own apartment, but we’ve done a great job of making time for one another.

Tonight is not only one of those nights, it’s also his birthday.

It’s also the night.

You know, the night.

The night I get to pop my sexy nerd’s cherry, if he’ll let me.

“Yeah, I want to give you your birthday presents.”

“Presents, as in plural?”

“Mmhmm,” I hum.

Theo showed up a few minutes early, right as I was getting dressed, and my last minute decision to forgo putting on pants to answer the door has paid o . The black, long-sleeved leotard I’m wearing looks demure up top but showcases my butt and legs to perfection. I know he appreciates the view because his hands keep doing long, grasping sweeps over the exposed skin of my lower body.

I run my hands across the wide expanse of his shoulders, which look even wider under the dark material of his shirt, and back up to his face to remove his glasses. I lean over to place them safely out of harm’s way on the co ee table. He looks utterly delectable seated against my fuzzy throw pillows and blankets, the twinkling fairy lights lending a soft, romantic feel.

My new place is ultra-feminine, so seeing my sweet and masculine boyfriend filling up the space has me raring to go.

“When do I get to unwrap these presents?”

He’s still touching my lower half but avoiding the part of me desperate for some attention. His ministrations are maddening, and it takes me a moment to respond.

“I’ll let you choose which one you want to open first, how ’bout that?”

“That works.”

His eyes keep flickering between my face and sending not so discreet glances at my crotch, which is only covered by the buttoned up fabric of my velvety leotard.

“Your first gift is something you can display.” I got him a comic book signed by the main cast of the latest Avengers movie, and I already know he’s going to flip. Thank God for

friends on the west coast who were able to attend a comic book convention where they made an appearance. “Your second gift is both weightless and heavy.” My throat gets dry at the thought of this gift. Before I can mention his third gift, he chooses.

“The second gift, please. I’m intrigued.”

All my practiced words fly out the window, so I decide to go for broke and word vomit my gift to him. “I love you.”

The words come out in a rush, but he has no trouble hearing them. The smile he gives me is pure and innocent and filled with wonder, and I bask in the unmasked happiness he radiates.

“Thank God because I love you too, Addy. So much.”

I fear my heart is going to stop from everything I’m feeling, but it kicks back to life and into overdrive when he pulls my face down gently and kisses me with that unparalleled smile on his face.

“When did you know?” I can’t help but ask. I am a girl, after all.

With his arms looped around me, he leans up and presses a kiss on my lips before resting his chin in the crook of my neck. He takes a moment to think of his answer, and I wait with bated breath.

“I don’t know the exact moment. You caught me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to come crashing into my life,” he says with a playful squeeze. “But I’m so glad you did. I know I told you at the party I was falling for you, but I think I o cially fell when that first confrontation with Brock happened.”

I pull back to look at him. “That night? The night we fought?”

“Yeah. I know it’s not our best moment and we didn’t agree, but my heart fell for you when you fought for me. You stuck up for me in a way I hadn’t ever done before, and I

couldn’t ignore it. But my feelings for you grow with each day, and I’m so happy you’re in my life, Addy. When did you know?”

My eyes get misty at his words, and I squeeze him tightly to me. I never want to let this man go.

“I think I knew for certain when we had our swimming lesson. You said you’d always keep me safe, and I knew my heart was safe with you. No one’s ever made me happier than you. I didn’t admit my feelings to myself until much later, but that night I knew I’d never be the same.”

“That’s the best gift I could ever receive,” he whispers.

“Nothing can top that.”

“I think your next gift will be a solid runner-up. It won’t top it, but it’ll be up there.”

“Oh, yeah. Gift one?”

“Yes, but I didn’t get a chance to mention your third gift.”

Now that my feelings are out in the open, my body’s desires are starting to take over so I can show Theo my love in a physical way, too.

“A third gift? What’s my clue for this one?”

“Well,” I begin. “It’s a little more...hands-on,” I say with a slow roll of my hips on his crotch.

His dick, which is already halfway hard, stirs at the movement at the same time his fingers tighten against the flesh of my thighs.

“H-hands-on, you say?”

I smile at his stutter, which never fails to warm my heart, and nod. “Yep,” I say, popping the ‘p’ as I give him a saucy smile.

“Let’s go with the first gift.”

The triumphant, albeit premature, grin spreading across my face halts in its tracks once I process his words. “The ffirst gift?” I ask, incredulous.

“Just kidding! That can wait. I’d like the third gift, please.”

I lean down and gaze into his eyes, my long locks draping over his head in a cocoon. “You sure you’re ready for it?”

“If it’s w-what I think it is, I’m m-more than ready for iit.”

“And what do you think it is?”

His cheeks start to turn crimson, but he powers through.

“Is it...is it…” He clears his throat. “Is it b-birthday s-sex?”

Another slow roll of my hips causes him to groan.

“It sure is, but only if you want it.”

Theo doesn’t answer me with words. Instead, he abruptly stands and places a heated kiss on my lips that leaves me breathless. I don’t have time to find my equilibrium before he’s making his way down the hall and into my bedroom.

Before I know it, I’m on my back on my bed, staring up at the man who makes me happier than any other human. The fairy lights in here twinkle behind him, but they still have nothing on the twinkle in his eyes.

“Of c-course I w-want it, Addy. I want you. B-but only if you’re r-ready, too.”

Could he be any more sweet?

“Of course I want it, Theo,” I say, repeating his words back to him. “I love you, and I want to share this with you.”

Ever since we reconciled a few months back and said we were falling for each other, we’ve had an even harder time keeping our hands to ourselves. But now that we’ve finally admitted to falling completely for each other? The expression on his face when I declare my love will never get old.

“I love you too, Addy,” he says. He graces me with another sweet smile, but he gets naughty on me when he rolls his hips against my core, his erection even larger than it was in the living room.

I gasp at the feel of his desire for me, and my nipples pebble in response. I lean up to rub them against his chest, seeking relief, but he pulls back.

What begins next is a slow, torturous, exquisite experience. I may be the one popping Theo’s cherry for actual penetration, but he’s e ectively ruining me for other men.

His confidence the past few months has grown exponentially as we’ve experimented, and he can now navigate my body better than I can. I’ve never been with a more giving lover, nor have I ever felt more cherished at my most vulnerable.

My breath catches in my throat and gets stuck there when he gives me a deep, sensuous kiss before trailing his lips down my neck. The plush feeling of his mouth and rough scrape of his stubble travel down my body as he takes his time exploring me. He pays extra attention to all of the sensitive spots he’s discovered, and it drives me absolutely wild.

I whimper when he showers attention on my nipples through my leotard, his tongue flicking and his mouth sucking until I’m certain the hard peaks will tear through the fabric.

I grasp his hair when he kisses a line down my stomach, the tightening coil of my building orgasm burning hotter and brighter the farther south he moves.

I arch o the bed, a keening sound leaving my throat when he tweaks my nipples with his fingers as he breathes against my pussy. His groan vibrates against me, and I instantly get wetter. I can feel the thin strip of fabric hug me tighter down there as I arch my back, and I swear fireworks start to dance across my eyelids when his tongue darts out and licks at the newly exposed skin.

“Theo, please,” I shamelessly beg as I squirm underneath him.

His tongue continues to tease me mercilessly, swiping underneath my leotard again and again and again, avoiding my clit and the area around it. Just when I think I can’t take any more teasing, his mouth moves lower, and I hear a dull clink when his teeth make contact against the three small snap buttons holding this stupid getup together.

His teeth nibble at the buttons, one by one, as his dexterous fingers continue to knead my breasts and tweak my nipples. I almost come out of my skin at the feeling; I throw one arm over my eyes and keep one buried in his hair, about to burst from the anticipation and sensation.

I know as soon as the snaps are undone because a draft of air cools my overheated center right before Theo dives in with eager lips and tongue. He’s voracious as he eats at me, swirling his tongue all over me before focusing on my clit with the focused intensity of someone who enjoys what they’re doing. I can barely handle the circling and flicking motions, and he drives me higher and higher as he repeatedly brings me to the edge and pulls back, only to take me closer to the edge the next time around. Just when I’m about to smack him on the head and demand an orgasm, he draws my swollen clit into his mouth and sucks hard. My mind blanks and my nerves explode as an incredibly powerful orgasm washes over me like a fucking tsunami.

“Oh, my God. Yes, yes, yes!” I scream as I buck up into this mouth.

I ride his face as I ride my release, and his mouth gentles as I come down from the most epic orgasm of my life.

“Holy shit,” I pant. “You...that...there are no words.”

He sits up and leans over me, a satisfied smirk tilting lips still shiny from my arousal. I lean up, and we share a deep

kiss while his hands make quick work of finally removing my leotard.

Once I’m completely naked, he sheds his clothes faster than I can blink. I stare up at him in awe, his swimmer’s body never failing to make me weak with need.

God, those shoulders. Those abs. That damn V. Even better, that dick.

I’ve become such a perv with him, and I have no regrets.

I eye him and reach out to grasp him, but he moves out of my way.

“I want to return the favor, babe,” I clarify, confused as to why he’s backed o . He’s got to be aching for some relief, especially if it’s in the form of a blow job. “Besides, it might help take the edge o before we get to...other things.”

Theo smiles down at me, a rueful grin pulling at his lips.

“I, um, I a-already c-came. When I was g-going down on you.”

I blink up at him, processing his words. He must’ve been thrusting against my bed as he went to town.

Why is that so hot? I wonder. Well, smarty-pants, it’s sexy that your boyfriend enjoys giving so much that it gets him o .

Yeah, that makes sense.

He looks embarrassed, so I tell him how hot it makes me, and a satisfied little smile shows up again.

“I r-really w-want to be inside you, b-baby.” I watch in rapt wonder as he runs his hand up and down his hard length. “Is that o-okay?” he asks as he settles between my splayed out thighs.

It’s my turn to answer him without words. I reach out with one arm and fling open my nightstand to pull out a condom. I fumble briefly before it’s secured tightly between my fingers, and I help him roll it on. I lean up again to give him a deep kiss as I wrap a hand behind his neck, and as I descend back down to the bed, I bring him with me.

Our foreheads are pressed together, our breaths mingling, and the uncertainty and jitters he let loose when we first started getting physical months ago make a reappearance.

“It’ll be okay, Theo,” I reassure him.

“It’ll be b-better than o-okay for me,” he says. “I want it to b-be a-amazing for you too, but it’s my f-first time, and I-I d-don’t know...I don’t know if…” His voice trails o in an agonized whisper.

I reach down between us with one hand and fist his stillhard length. “I love you, which will automatically make it the best sex ever. So what if you don’t last long this time?

It’s your first time. I get it.” I give him a tight squeeze with my hand and kiss his lips as he groans against me. “This just means we get to practice a lot to build up your stamina, and trust me, I’m really looking forward to that.”

I’m being completely honest, and I know he can hear the truth in my words because he shoots me a grateful smile before licking into my mouth in a worshipful, adoring kiss.

He removes my hand from his dick and pins it above my head.

“I love you, Addy,” he whispers as he nudges against my opening.

“I love you too, Theo.”

My declaration gets carried away on a moan as he continues to slowly thrust into me. It’s an e ort to keep my eyes open wide and on his face, but I do it because there’s no way I’m missing this, not for anything in the world.

The slow glide of him entering me, long and thick, steals my breath. But it’s the look of reverence, of wonder, as he enters and stretches me that steals my heart even more.

Once he’s completely inside, we both groan at the feeling of fullness.

“You’re s-so t-tight,” he chokes out on a gasp.

My hips rotate the slightest bit at his words, and I can feel his moan throughout my entire body. He pulls his own hips back and proceeds to slowly retreat and then enter me again, the thick drag of him making my eyes roll to the back of my skull.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, which isn’t a surprise, but just when I think he’s about to orgasm, he stops moving. Before I can question him to see if everything is okay, he reaches down between us and starts to swirl his thumb around my clit.

The move catches me o guard, and I’m on the verge of coming again when he starts to swirl his fingers.

“You f-feel so f-fucking g-good squeezing me, baby,” he says under his breath as I clench around him.

His dirty words being said in that sweet stutter, combined with his talented fingers, launches me into my second orgasm of the night. When he feels me clenching around him, his eyes widen and his hips pump once before he joins me over the edge.

I don’t know how I do it, but I watch as his orgasm takes him over. Seeing his abs tighten with his release and his head thrown back has got to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I know the image will forever be burned into my brain.

Better yet, I know he’ll forever be burned into my heart.

We both finish coming, and Theo collapses next to me on the bed, both of our breathing labored.

We’re happy, sated, and connected in yet another way.

“So, how’d you like your third gift?” I can’t help but ask, my tone playful.

Theo takes a deep breath and turns to peek at me, his eyes alight with wonder and eagerness and love. So much love.

“My second gift is my favorite, but when can we practice some more?”

A smile spreads across my face as he pulls me in to cuddle, and I can’t remember a time when I’ve been happier.

EPILOGUE THEO

Two Months Later “I CAN ’ T TAKE ANYMORE , BABE ,” Addy gasps, her arms barely holding her up as I tightly grip her hips and pump into her from behind.

“One more, Addy. One more,” I grunt out between thrusts. “P-please. A-almost th-there.”

She moans louder when she hears my stutter. She knows it comes out more when I’m feeling out of control, and we both know this is the best kind of way to lose restraint.

Since the first time we had sex, Addy and I have done a lot of practicing and, much to her delight, my stamina has definitely improved. All the time in the pool has also paid o to help my endurance, thank God. I know she needs a little help reaching the peak one last time, so I place my hand between her shoulder blades and press down.

The change in position angles me just right so I can rub up against her hot spot inside, and I know the second I hit it because Addy starts thrashing underneath me.

“Right there, Theo. Right there!” she cries out in the throaty voice that drives me to the brink of pleasure-filled insanity.

My hips speed up, never letting o on the pressure, and I reach around with one hand to pinch her clit. As soon as I do that, she detonates under my fingers and squeezes against me rhythmically, which manages to send me o into my own out of this world orgasm.

We stay plastered together until we both manage to catch our breath, at which point I press a gentle kiss to the back of her neck and roll her over so we’re cuddling.

“It gets better every time,” she murmurs sleepily against my front. “Nerdgasms rock.”

I smile against her hair and can’t help but laugh. She let slip one night what Camryn dubbed a nerdgasm, and it’s been a regular part of our vocabulary ever since.

Giving her an extra tight squeeze, I plant a soft kiss against the back of her neck. “That’s because I love you more and more each day.”

“I love you more and more each day too, hot stu ,” she says, grabbing one of my hands that’s warm and cozy under her breasts. She brings it to her lips and places a kiss on my palm, and I swear I feel the gentle pressure right in my heart. “What time do you have to head to class?”

I rotate my head to look at the clock on the nightstand.

“Soon, but I still have some time. I’d rather spend every free moment with you. I really can’t wait until we move in together.”

Addy hums her agreement against me, completely content. We’ve talked about it, and once I graduate with my masters degree, I’ll be moving in with her. Demi’s cool with it and keeps telling me it’s okay if I want to move out now.

Even though she insists it’s fine, I don’t want to ditch her, especially since she seems a little more stressed than usual.

Before my thoughts can try and unravel what’s going on with my best friend, Addy breaks the silence.

“Are you nervous about teaching still, or are you more excited?”

“Hmm,” I ponder. “A little of both, I guess. I think it’s growing on me.”

Ever since the night I punched Brock in the face and told Addy I’d continue to work on owning my stutter, I’ve worked hard at doing just that. The new semester has been in full swing, and I told Cohen I was interested in teaching a few classes this time around. Not only was he supportive, he was helpful in letting me practice the lectures and reviewing the notes I planned to cover ahead of time. On top of that, he’s o ered to mentor me and help me out with my graduate thesis. He’s really become someone I look up to, and now that I’m friends with his brother, I feel like we’re connected in more ways than before.

I think back on the few lectures I have under my belt already. While I still get a little antsy about teaching, it gets easier every time. I find myself looking forward to doing it more and more, and it’s made me consider becoming a professor; I can’t wait to tell Cohen about my decision. One of the biggest benefits of teaching, outside of helping my confidence, is truly accepting that I stutter sometimes. No lecture I teach is stutter-free, and I’ve learned to accept and move on without any fuss or interruption in the lesson.

Besides, the students don’t seem to care, so why should I? I explain this to her, and she’s her usual supportive self.

“You’d be such a great professor. It’s so hot seeing you teach, too,” she teases, and I can feel her lips smiling against my skin.

“Perv.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” I admit.

As I lie here with Addy, my body shielding hers, I can barely contain the feelings of gratitude and happiness

knowing that she’s in my life. Thank God this bold, gorgeous woman took a chance on a shy, quiet nerd. Each day with her gets better and better, and she’s made me a better version of myself than I ever thought possible, and I know I do the same for her.

Holding her close, I feel secure in knowing my future is literally within my grasp, and I can’t wait to see where it leads as long as it’s with her.

AFTERWORD

I’m no expert, but I tried to balance fact with creative freedom in this story to describe Theo’s experience with stuttering. I tried to do as much research as possible to ensure I accurately represented what it was like, and I hope I wasn’t too far o the mark. I also drew on the memory of an old friend in high school who had the cutest stutter ever and was shy about it. Thanks for the unintentional inspiration, Graham.

WHAT’S NEXT?

Demi and Cohen’s story is next in the Naughty Nerds series.

I hope you’re ready!

I’ve included an excerpt of my first novel, Sin and Cider, at the end of this book if you’d like to read something steamier to hold you over until my next release.

In Sin and Cider, Mac fights her attraction to Lawson, her older brother's best friend. This steamy Southern romance is about finding what makes you happy and opening yourself up to love.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Book two is, well, in the books. It took me long enough, right? They say it takes a village, and they weren’t kidding.

This book wouldn’t have been possible without the amazing tribe who supports me day in and day out, even when I don’t feel like my words are worthy of being published. This section will be long, but each person I mention is so deserving of recognition.

Liv Moore, this story wouldn’t have started without you.

Thank you for listening to me throw out every concept under the sun as I tried to come up with a short story idea for the unlikely heroes anthology. I must’ve changed my mind a dozen times, and I wouldn’t have landed on this idea if it weren’t for all the FaceTime brainstorming sessions, texts, and freak-outs. I’ll always be grateful for Madcap for bringing us together, and I look forward to our next writing retreat!

Dominique Laura, this story wouldn’t have finished without you. Thank you for being a solid writing buddy and keeping my procrastinating ass on track. I can’t thank you enough for providing me with endless support, motivation, last-minute plot discussions, and sprinting sessions. You helped me get out of my rut by being there for me, even when we didn’t talk, and I’ll always be grateful for Nashville.

I’m glad to now count you as one of my best friends and look forward to collaborating with you in the future.

Rachelle Velasquez, this story wouldn’t be what it is without you. Thank you for not only being one of my very best friends, but also for being such a solid alpha reader.

You’ve probably read this book more times than I have lol.

Your excitement at my words and thoughtful approach to feedback truly make the writing process easier, and I love running ideas (especially the spicy ones) by you. We have the same brain, and I love it. Thanks as well for being patient when I get stuck and take too many breaks. I promise, I’ll get you Cade ASAP lol.

Krystal Still, thank you for being such an advocate for this nerdy story. You’ve been my best friend since freshman year of high school (holy shiznit, we are getting old lol), and I’m so glad to still have you in my life. I appreciate your feedback on my date ideas, and I hope I did you proud with my TWD references. I’ve got you, girl. As you can tell, I drew a lot of inspiration for the IthaCon date from FanX, and it’ll always be a memory I cherish. I miss your face and think it’s been way too long since I’ve seen you. CALL ME LOL. To my Beta Kweens—Jessica Guard, Michele McMullen, Samantha Marie Potter, Shauna Stevenson, Kim Svetlin, and Jolene Edwards Triggs—thank you for reading Nerdgasm in its raw format. I know it wasn’t pretty. Your willingness to be open and provide honest, targeted feedback was integral in fleshing the story out further. I tried to incorporate all the feedback that would’ve helped the story most, and I hope I made you all proud and happy with the final product.

To my ARC team, my #JuicyFruiters, you ladies are so freakin’ patient. SO PATIENT. It took me thirteen months to get a new book out to y’all, and I’m honestly in awe that you didn’t move on and forget me lol. Thank you for waiting it out and for believing in me. Your support and kind words

fuel my fire to write new words, and I hope I provide you all with a book you can enjoy and be proud of each go-round.

You ladies keep me humble, grounded, and excited. Huge thanks as well to Michelle and Annette for your willingness to go above and beyond in helping me.

To my reader group, Reese’s Romantics, thank you for not giving up on me. You hang around in my Charlie Hunnam-loving zone, even though I haven’t published a book in forever, and I’m so glad y’all stuck around. Thank you for being the nucleus of my author world.

To the indie community—fellow authors, bloggers, readers, etc.—thank you for guiding, inspiring, supporting, and being an open book when I have questions. I’ve made new friends and started new lifelong friendships with many of you (I’d start to name you all, but the list would go on and on). The support and level of pimpage Nerdgasm received blew me away. Honestly, this release has been surreal, and it wouldn’t have been possible without your help. Whether you read and reviewed my book, shared a post, reposted, invited me to do a takeover, or gave a word of support, I’ll never forget the kindness you’ve shown me. In particular, I’d like to express my deepest gratitude to Kelly Green, Michelle Clay, and Serena McDonald. You three set o a chain of events for this release that has left me overwhelmed in the best possible way. I’m so, so incredibly grateful to know you ladies. Mad love!! The indie community would be nothing without the hard work, dedication, and true love everyone I just mentioned above has for books and the authors who write them. I appreciate each and every single one of you.

To the #SquadPod—Ava Alise, Brooke O’Brien, CL Stacey, Harloe Rae, Jane Anthony, Jessica Wayne, JL Davis, Liv Moore, Meg Anne, Nicole French, and Paige Fieldsted— thank you for being a constant source of support and information. I know I went radio silent for a bit as I tried to

get my writing life under control, but I hope you all know I appreciate your patience and understanding. Our chat (and our kickass nicknames) never fail to make me laugh, and it warms my heart to know you’re all there.

To my #MadCap Crew, Haylee Thorne and Liv Moore, thank you for continuing to support me. I’m so grateful we started this journey together, and I look forward to seeing where it takes us next. I love you both and wish you nothing but love, success, and joy.

To Shannon of Shano Designs, I’m so in love with my cover. I know it’s probably the biggest reason people notice my book, and I don’t blame them. You were so easy to work with, and obviously your designs are freakin’ gorgeous.

Thank you for bringing this story to life with the cover you created. I look forward to working with you again!

To all the wonderful ladies at Give Me Books, thank you for coordinating a flawless release blitz! You all were such a pleasure to work with, and you couldn’t have made it any easier. Seriously, you have a fan for life, and I can’t wait to work with you all again.

To my family, this book is a lot less steamy than my first one. If you read it, I won’t be as traumatized as I was when you read Sin and Cider, but I still advise against it. Seriously, I hope the fact that you’re reading this doesn’t mean you read this book. I’ll keep my fingers crossed you skimmed to this part. In all seriousness, thank you for the endless love and support. Your encouragement to pursue my dream makes my heart sing, and I hope you know how much I love and appreciate you. I couldn’t ask for a better family and am truly blessed to have you in my life.

To Scott, Loki, Sedona, Eggsy, and Nova, thank you for dealing with my zombie/loner/I have no life and have pasty legs because I see no sunshine since I live in my o ce ass.

For real, though. I have nothing to do with keeping you guys

alive when I’m in my writing cave, and I’m so grateful to have such a loving and understanding support system. I love you!

To you—yes, you!—thank you for reading Nerdgasm! If you’ve stuck by me since my first book, thank you! My readers are such a huge part of what motivates me to write, and I hope I didn’t disappoint. I hope you continue to stick with me and look forward to what I have in store next. If you’re a new reader, thank you for taking a chance on an unknown author. Whether good or bad, I would be so grateful if you would consider leaving an honest review of my book(s) online. If you’d like to stalk me, details on how to do so are at the very end of the book.

Dear God, thank you for blessing me with the persistence to get my head out of my butt and continue to pursue what makes my heart happy and my soul fulfilled.

Writing is a solitary activity, and having my tribe brings me immeasurable happiness. Thank you, and until next time!

COMING SOON BY KIMBERLY REESE

Naughty Nerds Demi and Cohen’s untitled story Sweet Sinners Sin and Sugar (Sweet Sinners #2) Sin and Suits (Sweet Sinners #3) Written with Dominique Laura Don’t Let Me Be Yours (coming August 24, 2018)

ALSO BY KIMBERLY REESE Sweet Sinners Series Sin and Cider (Sweet Sinners #1)

EXCERPT OF SIN AND CIDER A SWEET SINNERS NOVEL

PROLOGUE JULY

Something is wrong with me. Who the hell quits their job on a whim? Their successful job at a leading design firm, no less? Apparently that person is me. I’m MacIntosh—I swear I’m smarter than this—Layne, and I’m not sure I love my life anymore.

Although I have, ugh had, a successful career, a healthy social life, and share a gorgeous apartment with my best friend in a trendy downtown neighborhood, the life I’ve built for myself in the windy city feels lacking.

This glorious epiphany smacked me upside the head while I was at work, and everything derailed from there. My day started like any other day, and everything was fine...until it wasn’t. For the rest of my life I’ll remember the exact moment my sanity snapped. I was working on a start-up company’s branding I had been assigned to revamp when my overbearing manager, Lindsay, stopped by my desk.

Color me surprised when she told me I was late on the assignment I was given two days ago. Turns out the project had originally been assigned to her, and she gave it to me last minute. She wasn’t able to give a legitimate reason for doing so, but I know it’s because she’s a phony. For two years I’ve worked under her, and she habitually takes credit for other people’s work. I thought I could grin and bear it in

hopes that she’d promote me or retire, but I belatedly realized that would never happen. She’s a vulture who lets others do the work and then proceeds to hover over their success like it’s a dead carcass, ready to snatch it and claim it as her own. As she rambled on I stood up, told her to go fuck herself, and announced I was quitting.

Now I’m back home, overindulging in my favorite bottle of red, and contemplating my predicament. When I moved to Chicago six years ago, I was filled with a sense of purpose and felt alive, inspired even. I’ve lost those feelings and don’t know what’s missing that’s causing me to feel so incomplete. Lord knows I need to figure my life out, I’m just not sure how.

Deciding to take action and not sit around moping, I pour the last dredges of wine into my glass. “I’m going to figure this out,” I whisper to myself. My words are soft, a promise.

Draining the remaining wine, I say more strongly, “Something will change.”

ONE AUGUST

“I CAN DO THIS ,” I quietly say to myself as my fingers nervously grip the steering wheel of my rental car. I have no choice. I didn’t pack my bags and hop on a plane to Tennessee for nothing. Thinking back to what brought me here, I strengthen my resolve. Although I can feel my nerves buzzing below my skin, ready to pick back up once I start thinking about the many open questions in my life, a small smile steals over my face. I’m back home. I’m beyond ready to rediscover my sense of purpose, and I think going back to my roots will do the trick.

After partaking in too much wine the day I quit my job and spending a considerable chunk of time trying to figure out my next move, I decided to hit the refresh button on my life. I need to slow things down and take a break from city life, which is why I’m entering the city limits of Starwood, Tennessee. Not only is Starwood my hometown, but the apple orchard my parents own will be the perfect place to unplug and find myself again.

As I drive through town I’m bombarded with memories of my childhood: picking apples with my brother, baking pies with my grandma, taking a dip in the creek when the humidity was unbearable, and jumping into a huge pile of colorful leaves with my friends. There are so many

wonderful memories here. The closer I get to my family’s property, the stronger my feelings of nostalgia and knowing I’m where I need to be are.

Finally, I see the entrance to Shady Layne Orchard. My parents’ home sits on fifty acres of lush, green grass and soft, rolling hills. As I follow the gravelly driveway I look at the orchard in the distance. Even though I grew up here, the sight still manages to take my breath away. The trees are tall and stately, dotted with jewel-hued apples and adorned with slender branches reaching up to the sky like dainty lady fingers. Facing the orchard is the old barn we had converted into the cider shop, its white paint chipped and weathered.

I pull up to the side of the house and grab my phone. I promised I’d send Cade, my best friend and roommate, a text so he’d know I made it home safely.

Me: Hey CC, I made it to TN! :) My phone pings with a response almost immediately. I smile to myself as I think about my protective bestie.

Cade: Good, I was getting worried. You okay?

Me: I will be. Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?

Cade: Don’t be silly. Go find yourself. I’ll be here if you need me. :)

Me: You’re seriously the best.

Cade: Glad you recognize that.

Me: Haha okay, I gotta go. I’ll stay in touch. Love ya!

Cade: Love you, too.

Me: P.S.: I left 3 months’ worth of rent money in the cookie jar. :P

Cade: It’s staying there. I don’t need it. Now stop stalling. Go see your family.

Me: Fine, bossy man.

Cade: You know it. ;) Just texting Cade makes me feel better. Feeling lighter, I tuck my phone away and bound into the house.

“Mama! Papa! Is anyone home?” I shout. I’m greeted with silence, which is unusual. The house is usually buzzing with some sort of activity. I look at the key rack and see a note in my mother’s handwriting tacked to it.

Mac, your father and I are working the welcome booth at the farmers' market. We’re sorry if we missed you, sweetie.

Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. We aired out your room for you so you can take a nap if you need one. We’ll see you soon. We love you!

I hold onto the note for a few seconds, thinking about what I should do. Should I stay home and take a nap? No, I should take advantage of my renewed energy. Putting the note back down, I turn around and head back outside.

Farmers' market it is.

I see my parents before they see me. As I amble over to the welcome booth, a fond smile plastered on my face, I take a good look at them. The signs of aging have graced them as gently as newly fallen snow. There are more gray hairs and more wrinkles than I’m used to, but they look like they’re doing well. Finally, my mother catches my eye and runs around the booth to me, her warm arms encasing me in a tight hug.

“Oh Mac, baby, I missed you so much!” my mother cries excitedly. “It’s so nice to have you back home. You look so beautiful. How long are you stayin’ with us?” I can tell by her expression that she’s hoping it’ll be forever.

“I’m not sure, Mama. I plan on staying for the rest of summer so, at the very least, you have me until the end of September,” I say, just as another set of arms hugs me from the side.

“Then two months will have to do, sweetie,” my father says from my left. “We’re just glad you’re back.”

I feel my eyes water and stay enveloped in my parents’ dual embrace for a few seconds longer. As I pull away, I ask them how much longer they’ll be. After hearing they only have another half hour until their shift ends, I decide to walk around and look at the di erent booths selling local produce or homemade goods.

I used to love coming to these with my family when I was a child. I can still remember the feeling of pride when people bought our apples and cider. Maybe I’ll get the chance to do it again since it’s almost that time of year. I take my time walking around and make sure to hang back from large groups of people, careful not to draw too much attention to myself. Then, amid the low hum of soft and polite Southern drawls I didn’t realize I missed, I hear a distinct masculine

laugh. I turn slowly, hoping that I’m wrong in who the owner of the engaging sound is. Unfortunately my suspicions are correct as I spy Lawson Westbrook, my older brother’s best friend and the man I idolized growing up. I feel like I’ve seen a ghost as I discreetly gaze at him. He hales from old money and is the walking definition of a true Southern gentleman. On top of that, his innate charm and rugged good looks make him a catch any single woman in town hopes to end up with.

Thankfully he isn’t facing me so I stare a little longer than is polite. Somehow I managed to avoid seeing him on my infrequent visits back home but God, he looks better than he did six years ago. At thirty-one he’s seven years my senior, and he’s only gotten better looking with age. At well over six feet tall, he stands with the confidence of someone comfortable with his body, his muscular frame clearly at ease. I drink in his short, golden brown hair and trim facial hair that’s a smidgen darker. I can’t see his eyes, but I know they’re an arresting shade of green that puts spring leaves and budding apples to shame. As I stare at him, an old memory surfaces from when I was eighteen.

“MacIntosh Layne, you get your bum down here right now before we’re late to your own graduation dinner!” my mother calls.

As I put the last curl in my hair I yell back down, “I’ll be right there! I’m just grabbing my shoes!” Spraying on some perfume, I take one last look at my reflection before heading down. My new little black dress fits to the middle of my thighs and showcases a demure sweetheart illusion neckline. I wish it was more formfitting but I have to work with what I have, which is a distinct lack of curves. The dress, though beautiful, covers my lanky body like a sheet. I pray the person I hope finally notices me won’t catch that little detail. My long brown hair looks amazing and bouncy,

thanks to my curling iron, and my hazel eyes pop under my long lashes that I enhanced with the help of some mascara. Finally satisfied with my appearance, I grab my shoes and head downstairs.

My family ends up taking me to my favorite Italian restaurant in town for my graduation dinner. I’m a strange mix of anxious and excited because Lawson, my childhood crush, is here. Now that I’m eighteen and a high school graduate, I hope he’ll see me as a woman. Specifically, I hope he sees me as a woman he’d like to date.

During dinner, I can’t help but glance at him every chance I get. At one point my brother, Smith, catches me gazing at his friend. I feel the blush staining my cheeks and quickly look away when I catch the funny look he gives me. As dinner continues I’m asked by friends of the family what my plans are for college.

“I’ll either stay here or go to Chicago,” I say. “I haven’t been able to decide between the graphic design program at Tennessee State or the one at the University of Illinois. I’ll make a decision eventually.”

My family expresses their wish that I stay in-state, but I don’t tell them what’s going through my head. The truth of it is, if there’s a chance of anything happening with Lawson I’ll be staying in Tennessee.

As dinner is wrapping up, I see my chance to talk to Lawson alone when he gets up to use the restroom. My brother soon follows, but I think the di erence in timing will work in my favor.

I wait a moment and excuse myself to the ladies’ room. I’m drawing in a breath of courage as I make it to the hallway but stop in my tracks when I hear the low murmur of male voices.

“Law, I’m not kidding. I think Mac has a crush on you,” Smith says.

I feel the blood drain from my face in mortification and wait for Lawson’s reaction.

“Smith, you’re crazy. Even if it were true, why would you tell me?” asks the object of my a ection for so many years.

“Because if you think she does you better not hurt her feelings.”

“Man, she’s like one of the guys. Besides, she’s too young for me. I don’t date little girls. I prefer women. I do think you’re wrong though. She sees me as another older brother. Anyway, it’ll never happen. Ever. I can promise you that.”

I can’t take anymore. I spin around, tears in my eyes, and sit at an empty table far enough away that I won’t be seen as I try and regain my composure. I can’t even be angry at Smith because I know he was only looking out for me. What guts me is now I know for certain Lawson still sees me as a little girl. I look down and realize my hands are shaking. Knowing I’ve been gone for too long, I take a fortifying breath and wipe the tears from under my eyes before walking back. So much for a happy graduation day. It looks like I’m moving to Chicago.

“MacIntosh Layne, darlin’ is that you?” The feminine voice rips me from my flashback quicker than it takes to fry okra. I respond to the voice and, as I turn, I’m relieved to see Lawson hasn’t noticed me yet. Thank heavens for small favors.

Once I notice the person who spoke to me, a genuine smile makes an appearance. Lawson’s younger sister, Langley, is a year younger than me but someone I’d consider a friend. Turning so my profile is to her brother, I give her my full attention.

“It is me. How are you doin’, Langley? It’s been forever!”

I haven’t seen her in probably three or four years, but she’s bloomed beautifully. God help the eligible bachelors. Good looks definitely run in the Westbrook family, and Langley must undoubtedly be the belle of this town. Taller and curvier than I am with her mother’s inky black hair, she’s a

stunner. I can’t help but notice that both of the Westbrook children inherited their father’s striking green eyes.

“I’m doin’ all right. Just trying to sell some pies. How are you? You look great by the way!” she says with a sweet smile.

“Thank you, so do you! I mean it. The men must be chasing you around this town,” I say before we both laugh.

“I’m okay, but I’m excited to be back in town. Did you make all these?” I take a glance at the pies and assorted baked goods, and everything looks like it was made by a professional. Not only that, it all looks downright delicious. I feel my mouth start to water. Baked goods are my weakness.

“Sure did! I guess all those failed attempts at baking as a kid paid o . Would you like a sample?” She must see the drool collecting because she’s already placing a plated sample of what I think is cherry pie in my hand.

I let out an involuntary groan as I take the first bite, the flavors bursting on my tongue. The crust is buttery and flaky, the cherries tart and sweet. “Hell in a handbasket, Langley. This is amazing! I hate to say this, but this is better than my grandma’s pie—God rest her soul—and that’s saying something.”

“Oh, stop it,” she blushes. She seems a little uncomfortable with the praise but recovers quickly by grabbing a pie. “It’s just a hobby of mine. Here,” she hands me the pie, “this is on me since you’re in town, and it’s been forever since I’ve seen you. I’m not sure how long you’re here for, but we should get together and catch up.”

“You are too sweet. I can’t take this,” I halfheartedly say.

Thankfully she’s persistent. “I’m here for the summer and would love to meet up.”

We make small talk for a couple minutes before I realize the time. My parents should be done with their shift any minute now. As I apologize for my hasty departure we exchange numbers, and I promise her that we’ll get together

soon. With my new pie in hand I head toward the parking lot.

This summer should prove to be very interesting. One thing I know for certain is that while I’ll be seeing Langley again, I won’t be seeing her brother. This summer I’ll be avoiding Lawson Westbrook at all costs.

L AWSON “Lawson, when are you gonna let me ask your sister out?”

Jude asks, his eyes and tone pleading for a chance.

“Never, man. Ever. Even if I gave my blessing, she’d eat you up and spit you out alive. You know how she is. She won’t date anyone.” I say this in a joking manner, but my coworker knows I’m not kidding. There’s no way this guy is getting near my baby sister.

“That’s just cause she hasn’t gone out with me yet. I’d change her mind.”

“The answer is still no,” I say a little more seriously.

He relents with a defeated sigh. “Fine, I’ll leave it alone.

For now. Maybe I’ll ask out the pretty thing talking to her.

Do you know who she is?”

I turn and try to find my sister’s booth. It takes a second to locate her, and once I do my eyes zero in on the woman in question.

“Not sure, never seen her before. Maybe she’s new in town,” I murmur as we both stare.

I can’t see her face since she’s standing with her side to us, but judging solely o of her profile, I really like what I see. A lot. Tall and slender, mystery woman has curves in all the right places. Not overly curvy, but definitely not thin, her body is showcased in a tight t-shirt and jeans. My gaze travels up her body starting at her toes, and I decide this is a

body I wouldn’t mind getting to know intimately. As I stare, I take in hair that looks long, smooth, and is the color of rich milk chocolate. I wish I could see her face.

Before either of us can say anything else, mystery woman wraps up her conversation with my sister. As she turns and walks in the opposite direction, hair swishing and hips swaying gently with each step, I make a decision. Somehow, I’m going to find out who this woman is and introduce myself.

THIRSTY FOR MORE?

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt of my first book, darlin’! If you’d like to see what’s brewing between Mac and Lawson, you can grab Sin and Cider on Amazon or read it for free on KindleUnlimited.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kimberly Reese published her first novel in 2017 and has since been hard at work writing more steamy stories. She grew up in a military family and is currently working on her tan in Arizona. When she isn't writing, you can catch her reading, traveling, resisting the urge to adopt more dogs, or spending time with family.

Connect with Kimberly authorkreese@gmail.com Newsletter/Website Reader Group: Reese’s Romantics