"I'm home!" I told myself as I stepped into my condo. I was tired and exhausted. Honestly, this had to be one of the worst days of my life.
But still, they're the worst...
If you think I had it bad just because I was in a room with those idiotic twins and a menopausal guy—who, by the way, smelled really good—I wish I could say that was all.
The twins groped my butt, and I could feel that demonic jerk throwing weird glances my way. Couldn't he just get over my little stunt? I mean, couldn't he assume I'm just like any of those girls who get hyped up just by sitting beside him? He could've at least thought I was one of their little fangirls. Why the glances, right? They usually ignore their fangirls.
Maybe it's because I look weird? Or maybe because I'm a nerd? Ugh, why am I even overthinking this?
As I grab my leftover pasta from the fridge and heat it up, I also grab my laptop and open it.
A picture pops up—an adorable little boy frowning in a cupid costume. I can't help but smile.
I hate Cupid too.
After checking some accounts and handling what needs my attention, I shut it down.
Yeah, I've got a company. It was passed down to me by my late parents, and now it's run by me and one of my best friends.
Dinner done, I glance at the note pinned to my wall:
8 Operations for 1 Revenge8 Demons, 1 Angel8 Pleasures, 1 Paradise8 Bows, 1 Cupid8 Planets, 1 SunAnd8 Love, 1 Pain
All you need to know is that those demons? Yeah, they're the womanizers I encountered earlier today. But that's not the whole story. Kaizer—one of the demons—doesn't even study at our school. I've got no idea why.
And me? That's a secret. For now.
After cleaning my face and wiping away the nerdy makeup, I put on my slutty one. I change into a plain black crop top, denim skirt, and high-heeled boots. I swap my glasses for contacts and apply my signature riveting rose lipstick. I check the contents of my handbag—then I'm out.
As I park my baby, the thudding bass from the speakers and the thick scent of alcohol hit me. Not surprised.
Inside, I immediately feel naked under the stares of these horny idiots. Can't they be a little less obvious about where they're looking? It's not like they're getting any of this.
Walking in with confidence, I can feel even more eyes on me now. But I don't feel shame, or even shy. Those words don't mean much to me anymore.
While waiting for the demon of my life to show up, I order a vermouth. Just enough to drown myself in some confidence.
As the bartender starts preparing my second drink, some guy slides into the seat next to mine and leans in, whispering, "Have we met before?"
He's cute. Not my type, but hey—he could help with the boredom.
I flash him a sweet smile. "Maybe?" My hand trails from his neck down to his torso. He's got a decent build, but still nothing compared to those jerks.
"Hmm?" He seems flustered—maybe lost for words... or just horny. Perfect. Let's make him hornier.
I look at my hand caressing the hem of his shirt. "Maybe you've seen me in your dreams?" I bite my lip—and his eyes follow. He smirks, thinking he's got me for the night.
Not a chance.
Then his hand starts traveling from my leg up to my thigh. Ugh. If things were different—if certain things hadn't happened—I'd have shoved him off. But like I said... I've changed.
Just as my drink arrives, I reach into my purse—but he's already paid. I stand up, wink, and walk away.
Cue the dramatic entrance.
Right when the music changes, they arrive. Total cliché. Only four of them though: Zeff, Vaughn, Curtis, and Paige. Three of them brought girls—cheap-looking ones from our school. You can tell by the overkill makeup.
Well... at least they know how to pick their whores. Somehow.
I'm not shocked that Vaughn doesn't have a "date." He's that picky.
I mean, come on. He's the "Geek Genius" of BVU. Vaughn (or Von) Montier. Total bookworm. Probably the quietest guy in the group. He even has two whole rooms filled with books. Hard to miss that fact—especially since the whole school won't shut up about them.
So, I guess we know who my target is for tonight, huh?
Seeing the three nimrods take their girls upstairs just confirms it. That billionaire bastard really made rooms for their little "fun." Geez. Horny animals.
Showtime.
I down my drink and head toward the stage. Vaughn's sitting at the counter, bored. Perfect. I hand my pouch to a waiter, then start swaying to the music.
All eyes on me again. Maybe they're wondering how to get in my pants.
Yeah, right.
Still—Vaughn doesn't notice. Seriously?!
Ugh! That alienated jerk!
Everyone's staring at me—but not him?!
Time to raise the bar.
I start moving more seductively. My hands trail from my neck down to my chest, then along my curves, down my thighs, and to my knees—spreading my legs just a little. I shoot him a lustful glance.
There it is. He's finally looking.
Haha. Now we're talking.
He's staring, and oh—I love the look in his eyes. Pupils dark, full of lust. As dark as my secrets. Just thinking about what could happen next has me buzzing.
I return the look, biting my right pointer finger and motioning him over with my left.
He holds my gaze for a moment—then looks away.
...Okay? That wasn't part of the plan.
As the song ends, I get my pouch back and thank the waiter. Seconds later, guys start showing up—trying to talk to me.
Not happening.
I glance back at Vaughn. Ugh! Like nothing happened! Like he doesn't even care! This nerd is seriously testing my patience. Lucky for him, I'm in the mood for a challenge tonight.
I flash a sweet smile to the thirsty crowd and leave my seat. I head to the counter, acting like I need a drink. I sit close to him. "One Mojito, please." The bartender stares at me—correction, stares at my body.
Ehem. Vaughn clears his throat. Bartender snaps out of it and gets my drink.
"Hey," he slurs, sounding a bit tipsy.
I turn in my seat, crossing my legs so my skirt rides up just slightly.
"Hi," I say sweetly. Like I didn't just perform a stripless striptease on stage. Like we weren't in a club. Like I didn't know exactly who he was.
"I'm Vaughn. And you, sexy?"
"I'm KD," I say shyly, blushing. What's with me? Must be the alcohol kicking in.
He may be a nerd, but he's a hot one. The kind that could get into any girl's pants without even trying.
Then his hand's on my thigh.
And with just that, I nearly lose it.
As I pick up my drink, he squeezes my thigh. I flinch—and spill the drink all over my shirt.
Really? What's with them and ruining my tops?
Before I can even react, he leans in close and whispers,"You don't need that stupid piece of material anyway."