Page 24 of That's Too Pucking Bad

“Yeah,” I say, even though I’m already thinking about how to get over to Remy’s dorm instead.

The party’s loud and packed, just like I expected. Music’s blaring, and people are already drunk, stumbling around, talking shit about the game. Maya and Caleb are somewhere in the mix, but I can’t focus. Every second I’m here, I’m thinking about Remy.

After what feels like forever, I tell myselffuck it. I’ve had enough. I grab my jacket, slip out of the party without anyone noticing, and head straight for Remy’s dorm.

I’m standing outside her door before I even realize it, my heart thudding a little too fast. I knock, and for a second, I wonder if she’s even there. Maybe she’s asleep or too busy studying to answer.

Then, the door swings open, and there she is.Mylittle slut.

She’s in pajama shorts and an oversized T-shirt, her hair pulled up in a messy high bun. She’s got her headphones hanging around her neck, and for a second, she just looks surprised to see me.

“Hey, are you looking for Maya?” she asks.

For a second, I almost relax. She’s smiling, looking at me andfuckingsmiling and the sight is doing something to my insides. I want to slam my lips to hers.

“Hey, Remy,” I say, my voice coming out way too casual. “I, uh—”

Her expression changes, and suddenly, I see the shift in her eyes. That smile falls, and she takes a step back, like she’s finally processing who’s at her door.

“Wha– How do you?” Something registers in her mind.

“You,” she says, her voice sharp.

Chapter 5

I’m frozen at the door.

It’s him. I would know that voice anywhere.

The Red Mask guy. But this time, I see his face.

I’m not going to lie. I had nightmares that this mystery man was ugly as dirt and that my first orgasm was on some loser’s tongue, but the man standing before me like he’s known exactly who I’ve been all along?

He’s tall. Muscular. Sharp jawline. He’s got dirty blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and this cold, controlled expression like he owns the world. His leather jacket and the expensive clothes scream effortless arrogance. I remember thinking he was tall, but standing here now, somehow, he’s taller.

And he’s at my door.

“I didn’t think you’d miss the party,” he says, his voice a low rasp that sends a jolt through me. “Given that the last one was…”

I blink, my brain catching up.That’s why he’s here.

“I’m busy,” I say, crossing my arms. And then I uncross them because I don’t know what the hell to do with myself.

His blue eyes sweep over me, lingering too long, and I hate it. Hate how my body reacts to just that. A simple look, and I’m wet. This is insane.

He shifts, stepping forward like he’s going to just waltz in.

“Mind if I come in?”

“Actually, yeah, I do. Not really a good time.”

He ignores me. Of course, he does. His eyes do another sweep of my room. Taking it all in—the string lights above my bed, the neat pile of textbooks on my desk, the posters I’ve carefully hung. I’m not some messy college girl with clothes all over the floor. I like things neat. Organized. Unlike the chaos happening in my head right now.

He walks in anyway, brushing past me, like I didn’t even answer. I take a step back because I’m not sure what else to do. I watch him as he casually strolls over to my desk, picks up my phone like it’s his.

“Put that down,” I snap, heart racing.

He smirks but places it back, as if he owns this place, owns me. God, I hate that smirk.

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