By lunch, I already had a plan.
Step one, get the new girl's name.
Step two, get her number.
Step three, get her panties on my bedroom floor.
Probably in that order.
Easy.
I was just about to get up from my seat when someone dropped into the chair next to me.
"Babe."
And before I could even breathe, Liz's lips smashed into mine. Deep. Like her doctor prescribed three doses of tongue a day and I was the only pharmacy in town.
When she finally pulled back, she smiled like we'd been dating for years. "Let's go eat."
Correction: I do not have a girlfriend. But she doesn't have to know that, right?
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, smirking. "Hungry already?"
"You wore me out last night," she said with a wink, loud enough that the guy at the next table glanced over. Liz didn't care. She wanted people to hear.
I chuckled. "Yeah, I do that."
She slid her hand onto my thigh under the table, nails scratching just enough to make a point. "Come on, babe. Lunch. My treat."
My treat. Right. Liz's dad was some CEO who could buy this whole campus twice and not blink. She could afford lunch for the whole cafeteria.
I leaned back. "Alright, let's go."
We got up, and she automatically hooked her arm through mine, like she was claiming territory. Possessive. Typical. She kept up a stream of chatter as we walked—class schedules, how boring her morning was, some girl who annoyed her already. I threw in the right nods and the occasional "uh-huh," but my mind was elsewhere.
The cafeteria was buzzing, packed with noise and bodies. People laughed, shoved, carried trays piled with food.
And then I saw her.
The new girl.
She was sitting at a corner table with her tray, calm, relaxed, like the noise didn't touch her. Three guys hovered nearby—two leaning in to talk, one basically drooling into his soda. And she? She was smiling. Innocent, friendly, like she didn't even notice the effect she had.
I swear I saw her scribble something down on a napkin and hand it to one of them. Number. Just like that.
So fast.
Damn.
I was still stuck here, arm-in-arm with Liz, while the prize was already being picked at.
"Babe. Babe. Babe!"
I blinked. "What?"
Liz pouted, tugging at my sleeve. "Are you even listening?"
"Yes, Liz."
Her eyes narrowed. "Liar."
She dragged me toward the food line, still attached to me like a leech. "Anyway, like I was saying—did you hear about Jessica? The one from Delta Pi? She got caught cheating on her boyfriend. Like, actually caught. In his room. With his roommate."
I raised my brows. "Ballsy."
"Stupid," Liz corrected. "Her boyfriend's loaded. He literally bought her a car last month. A Mercedes. And she threw it away for a quick lay with a loser who still lives in the dorms."
I grabbed a tray, sliding it along the metal rail. "Maybe he was better in bed."
Liz gasped and smacked my arm. "Matteo! Don't say stuff like that."
I smirked. "What? It's true. Money doesn't always mean skills."
She rolled her eyes, piling food onto her plate like she was feeding a family of five. "Still. She's an idiot. And now everyone's talking about it."
I wasn't listening anymore. My eyes were on the corner of the room again.
The blonde smiled softly at something one of the guys said, head tilted just a little as she listened. No over-the-top giggle, no dramatic flip of her hair. Just… normal. Like she was talking to old friends, not three guys practically tripping over themselves to impress her.
She laughed once—quiet, polite—and sipped her drink like it was nothing.
And that was the part that threw me.
Because while the rest of the cafeteria was buzzing, half the room sneaking glances at her, she acted like she didn't notice any of it. Not the stares, not the whispers, not the fact that she'd just turned half the cafeteria into her personal fan club.
And me? I was still stuck here with Liz talking about sorority drama.
I forced my eyes back to her, nodding like I cared.
"Totally," I said.
Liz narrowed her eyes again, reading me too well. "You're distracted."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are." She leaned closer, lips brushing my ear. "You better not be looking at other girls."
I laughed it off, even as my eyes drifted back for one last glance.
Yeah. Other girls.
---
When the final lecture wrapped, I had one mission: get her name.
The room emptied with the usual chaos—students rushing out, some dragging their feet, others hanging back to bug the professor. I took my time, sliding my notebook into my bag, eyes locked on her.
The blonde.
She stood, calm, steady, collecting her things like she wasn't in a hurry at all. I glanced around. No Liz in sight. Probably talking to her "friends." By friends, I mean the little fan club of spoiled, rich girls who treated her like their queen. Liz had that kind of power. Daddy's money, her looks, her temper—people stuck to her because they were either scared of her or wanted to be her. Maybe both.
Good. That meant I had a window.
I cut through the rows and caught her just as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
"Hey," I said, flashing the easy smile that never failed. "I know it's rude to interrupt, but… you're new, right?"
She looked at me, green eyes sharp but unreadable.
"Yeah," she said simply.
Smooth, Matteo. Keep it light. "Thought so. I'm Matteo."
She hesitated for a second, then gave me the barest hint of a smile. "Brittany."
"Brittany…" I repeated, rolling it like I was tasting it. "And the last name?"
Her lips twitched. "Vetrova."
"Vetrova?" I arched a brow. "Russian?"
That got her. Her face went serious in a snap. "Are you judging?"
I froze, hands up slightly. "No. Of course not. I'd never."
For a second, I thought I blew it. Then—she giggled.
"I'm kidding."
And damn. That giggle.
It wasn't high-pitched or fake like most girls around here. It was soft, light, the kind of sound that slipped under your skin and lingered. Natural. Innocent. Like she'd just told the funniest joke in the world, even though it wasn't.
And that was it. Hook.
I smirked, adjusted my bag strap, and decided not to push it further. Keep it short, keep it smooth. "Nice meeting you, Brittany Vetrova."
"See you around, Matteo."
I walked her out, keeping pace a step behind, watching as she crossed the lot with that same calm stride. She didn't stop, didn't look around—just kept going until she reached a sleek black Maserati parked like it owned the space.
She slid into the driver's seat, started it up, and the engine purred low and smooth.
Without so much as a glance back, she pulled out and drove away.
"So rich," I muttered to myself.
I shook my head, still smirking, and headed to my own car. Not a Maserati, but it did the job. I unlocked it, swung the door open, and—
"Oh my God."
Liz was sitting in the passenger seat.
I blinked. "How the hell did you even get in here?"
She grinned like it was nothing. "I duplicated your car key last week."
I stared at her. "I'm not even gonna ask."
Before I could say anything else, she climbed across the console and straddled me, lips crashing against mine as she unbuckled my belt.
"Liz—" I tried.
"We're at a parking lot," I pointed out, hands on her waist, half to steady her, half to calm her down.
She smirked against my mouth. "Your car's windows are tinted."
I couldn't help it—I laughed. "Fair point."
Her smirk deepened as she dug into her purse and pulled out a foil packet, holding it up between two fingers like a dare.
"Prepared, huh?" I muttered, half laughing, half breathless.
"Always."
She tore it open, slipped it on me with a wicked grin, and then settled back onto my lap like she'd been waiting for this all day.
I grinned, gripping her waist as she rode me in a steady rhythm. I matched her movements, thrusting up to meet her.
The car creaked with the motion, windows fogging even more. Every shift, every movement sent heat shooting through me until my grip on her hips turned desperate.
Liz's breath came in short gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders as she rode me harder. I could feel the tension building, the pleasure coiling tighter with each thrust. With a final cry, we both found our release, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our climax.
She collapsed against me, her head resting on my shoulder as we caught our breath.
She whispered with a grin. "Told you no can see."
I let out a shaky laugh, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead. "Yeah," I murmured, still catching my breath. "Guess you were right."
She smiled like she'd just won something, pressing a lazy kiss to my jaw before settling back against me.
But even as I held her, my mind wasn't on Liz.
One name kept circling in my head, refusing to let go.
Brittany Vetrova.
---
To be continued...