Flirt: A Carlton University Novella Read online

  Flirt

  © 2016, Natalie Rios

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Veronica

  I seriously need to reevaluate my life. I’m talking a real, deep, come-to-Jesus kind of reevaluation where I analyze every little thing I’ve ever done in order to determine how I ended up here. At rock bottom.

  I’m pacing in front of the steps leading up to Hollis Hall, the largest dining hall on campus. There’s an empty bench I could be sitting on, but I’m too restless to sit still right now.

  What am I doing? Why am I here?

  Well, the first question is easy enough to answer. This was our designated meeting spot. I’m here to meet my...date? Fuck buddy? I’m not even sure what to call him. Hell, I’ve never even met the guy.

  Which brings me to the why. Why am I about to meet up with a stranger?

  I blame this on my roommate, Lia. She introduced me to the app Flirt. “It’s like a blind-date version of Tinder, except only college students can use it and it’s just for hooking up,” she explained.

  “Hooking up?” I snorted. “Why would I want to meet up with a complete stranger to hook up?”

  “Because, you’re in a funk. You and Daniel broke up over a year ago and you’re still hung up on him. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

  And that, ladies and gentleman, is why I’m standing here right now. Freaking the fuck out and wondering if I can seriously go through with having sex with a stranger.

  Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I immediately jumped on Lia’s half-baked idea. When she first brought up Flirt, I told her she was nuts. Meeting up with strangers for the sole purpose of having sex sounds dangerous. A good way to either get yourself attacked or end up with a nasty case of herpes.

  No, it took months for the little seed she had planted to grow. Months where I would watch her go out to hook up with some random guy and then return to our apartment, safe and sound, wearing a huge grin on her face.

  “Doesn’t it scare you? Meeting up with random men to have sex? I mean, you said you don’t even get to see a picture of them first. What if you show up and they’re hideous?” I asked one Friday night, several weeks ago. I was staying in, again. Not even our other roommate, Allie the pre-med major, stayed in on Friday nights. Granted, she was working, but still. It’s obvious who the loser in our group is.

  “Then you leave. Duh.” Lia rolled her eyes as if it were that simple. “You’re not obligated to stay if there’s no attraction. Honestly, though, I’ve yet to get matched with a guy I’m not attracted to. I don’t know how they do it, but everyone I’ve met up with is at least an eight out of ten. And it isn’t scary at all. I can’t explain it, but it’s so exciting! And the sex is incredible!”

  “Incredible? How can it be incredible when you’re having sex with some guy you don’t know?”

  “Because they match you up based on your sexual preferences.”

  “Huh?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Lia flopped onto my bed, flicking a finger at my thigh. “When you join, they make you fill out this ridiculously long questionnaire. It’s all about your sexual preferences. Everything you like listed right on there. And I mean everything. Dirty talk, bondage, threesomes, spanking...You can list all the kinky stuff you might be too afraid to admit you’re into in real life. And the best part is, you get a copy of your match’s survey results before you meet up. So you know exactly what the other person is into beforehand.”

  “Do you think that makes a difference?” I asked, still skeptical. “You’re still having sex with a total stranger.”

  “Which is no different than having a one-night stand,” Lia pointed out. “Actually, I would say this is better than a one-night stand because, again, they know exactly what you like. No half-assed fumbling while they try to figure out what turns you on. This is 100% hot fucking, exactly how you want it. Thrilling and adventurous with an earthshattering orgasm all but guaranteed.”

  I had trouble sleeping after that conversation. I found myself thinking about Flirt every day and the more I thought about it, the more I reasoned with myself I should give it a try.

  Lia is happy, light and airy. I’ve honestly never seen her this excited about something in the almost three years we’ve lived together. And I want that. I want to be light and airy again, instead of this depressed blob who stays in every night watching Netflix and wondering if there’s something wrong with me.

  The break up with Daniel had hit me really hard. We started dating freshman year of high school and managed to survive all the way through the middle of Fall semester in our sophomore year of college. We were the couple in our circle of friends, the only stable pair who didn’t have to deal with the wild hook up culture prevalent on Carlton University’s campus.

  I thought we were forever. I thought we would graduate together, get married, settle down with our two children and a dog.

  Daniel, apparently, had other ideas.

  So here I am, twenty years old, and miserably single. I have no idea how to talk to guys. No idea what you’re supposed to do on dates. I’m not even sure where I should go meet the right kind of guys. While everyone else had been figuring it out for themselves, I’d been too busy wrapped up in Daniel.

  I’m half-afraid I’ve missed my window of opportunity.

  Flirt is an easy way for me to meet guys. My socially awkward tendencies won’t matter because they’re not meeting me to talk. They’re meeting me for sex. Kinky sex, if this guy’s questionnaire is anything to go by. Not that I’m complaining about the kinky part.

  Kinky is exactly what I signed up for.

  “Veronica?”

  I stop pacing and turn my head towards the direction of the voice. And spot Lia’s hot older brother, Cameron Schmidt.

  Don’t stare, V. Don’t stare.

  I always have to remind myself of that when he’s around. Because, holy shit, is Cam hot. His rugged jaw is currently sporting just a hint of a five o’clock shadow, making his sinfully full lips stand out even more than usual. Lips that look like they are made for kissing, nibbling and sucking.

  And then there are those eyes. Almond-shaped and a pale shade of green, they’re framed by these lusciously thick lashes. The contrast between his pale green eyes and his bronzed skin is absolutely stunning. A striking combination that makes you want to do a double take.

  If you manage to make it past his gorgeous face, there’s also his delicious body. Though you can’t tell given his current attire,
I know those jeans are hiding the most muscular and tight ass I’ve ever seen on a guy. And beneath his Carlton University sweatshirt are these gigantic shoulders and biceps. The kind that conjure images of sweat, heat, and lots of skin.

  “V?”

  And, fucking hell, I’m staring at him.

  I clear my throat and nervously crack my knuckles. Flustered. Cam Schmidt has always managed to fluster me. “Hey, Cam.”

  He juts his chin towards the stairs in front of us. “You going to get dinner?”

  “Uh, no. Not exactly. I’m supposed to be meeting someone out here.”

  A strange look comes over his face. “Oh, yeah?” But just as quickly, the look is replaced with a smile. Ah, hell. Not the smile. Those dimples combined with his sparkling eyes are going to have me drooling. I have no choice but to cast my eyes downward, keeping them on his scuffed sneakers. “Are Lia and Allie coming?”

  “No...” I can’t help the blush creeping across my cheeks. I was already nervous, but if my Flirt guy shows up while Cam is here, the awkward meter is going to get cranked up several notches.

  Because just how in the hell am I supposed to explain that to Cam?

  “Are you going to the game on Saturday? I gave Lia an extra ticket.” Ah, right. Cam’s a quarterback for the Carlton football team. It’s how I know about his amazing ass. Those tights they wear on the field leave very little to the imagination.

  “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “She hasn’t mentioned it.”

  “Well, you should go. It’s going to be a good game and I might even get to start.” I nod, still unable to meet his gaze. Maybe that’s a good thing. The less I engage, the more Cam will think I don’t want to talk to him. It might seem rude, but I need him to leave before my Flirt meet-up gets here.

  Speaking of my meet-up, where the hell is he? Lifting up my wrist, I check my watch. He’s officially five minutes late. Or maybe I’m getting stood up?

  “What’s that on your hand?” Cam asks. It’s not the question so much as the tone he delivers it in that has me finally looking up at him. Visibly tense, his eyes have zeroed in on my hand. Or, more specifically, the giant red star I had drawn on the back of it earlier today with a marker.

  “Nothing.” I quickly try to stuff my hands in my pockets, away from his prying eyes, but Cam is quicker. Snagging my wrist, he holds up my marked hand for his inspection. “It’s nothing, I swear. Just me doodling earlier.”

  I’m not sure if Cam knows about Flirt, but this is how meet-ups work. One person chooses the symbol while the other chooses the color. Once the two of you agree to schedule a meet-up, the app puts this information together and tells you what symbol and color to draw on the back of your hand. It’s a quick and discreet way to make sure you’re meeting up with the right person.

  If Cam knows about Flirt, he will easily be able to figure out why the symbol is there. And then I think I will die of embarrassment. Because what’s worse than being desperate enough to use a hook up app to have sex with a stranger? Your best friend’s hot and popular older brother finding out you’re desperate enough to use a random hook up app.

  “You said you were meeting someone?” His voice is still tight and I can tell he’s angry. Shit. Did he figure it out?

  “Um...yeah?”

  “Fuck!” Cam suddenly releases my wrist and I take a step back, watching with wide eyes as he begins to pace.

  “Are you okay?” I ask after several long beats of silence. I’m not sure what’s happening. He looks like he’s freaking out, which doesn’t make sense to me. If he figured out I’m on a Flirt meet-up, I can understand him being concerned. Maybe a little worried his sister might be using the app too, but Cam’s face looks alarmed. And he keeps frantically running a hand through his silky jet black hair.

  No, Cam doesn’t look concerned. If anything, he looks panicked.

  “Cam? Are you okay?” I repeat.

  This time, my words manage to catch his attention. Muttering under his breath, he marches back over to me and grabs my arm again, completely ignoring my protests. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone here, too.” And then he looks down at where our arms connect.

  That’s when I spot it. The big, red star on the back of his hand.

  “Ah, hell,” I whisper.

  Cam Schmidt, hot older brother of my roommate, is my Flirt meet-up. Just kill me now.

  Chapter Two

  Veronica

  Sometimes, I really wish someone would invent a miniature shovel you can carry around in your back pocket. Perfect for moments like these, when you want nothing more than to dig a big old hole to bury yourself in. Without one, all I can do is pray for a sinkhole.

  Do sinkholes even exist in Massachusetts?

  My cheeks are absolutely burning as I try in vain to wrestle my arm away from Cam. The guy is a Division I football player and I’m a petite nerd. This is Sparta versus Athens. Resistance is futile.

  “Jesus Christ, V! I can’t believe you’re using a sex app.”

  “Excuse me!” I screech. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that red star on your hand means you’re using it too! So you’re in no place to judge me, Cameron.”

  His jaw clenches and he finally releases my arm. “You’re just not that type of girl, V. How the hell did you even hear about the app?”

  Not that type of girl.

  I fucking hate that sentence. Daniel used to say it to me all the time back when we were dating. He never wanted to try new things in bed. Whenever I worked up the nerve to ask if we could try something, he would give me this weird look. “You don’t enjoy having sex with me?”

  “No! It’s not that! I just thought we could try something new.”

  “You’re not that type of girl. Besides, you’re getting off and I’m getting off. If it ain’t broke, don’t try to fix it, babe.”

  Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

  So hearing that sentence come out of Cam’s mouth was kind of like a trigger for me, snapping me out of my awkward and mortified state and shooting me straight into pissed the hell off. “Well, clearly, you don’t know what kind of girl I am since I came out here fully prepared to give you a blowjob!”

  “Jesus Christ!” One of his hands reaches up and scrubs across his face, shielding his expression from me. “We need to continue this conversation in private.”

  He doesn’t wait for me to respond, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the parking lot next to Hollis. I might have resisted, but there are a lot of eyes on us. Not to mention groups of people whispering and pointing as we pass.

  Oh my God. What if they heard my blowjob comment?

  We reach a car I recognize as belonging to Cam and he all but shoves me into the passenger seat. He then gets in and sits behind the wheel. Instead of reaching for his keys, he turns to face me, a severe frown marring those gorgeous lips. “How did you learn about Flirt?”

  I school my face into the stoniest expression I can muster. I am Fort Knox. My fortress is impenetrable. I will protect America’s founding documents until my last dying breath.

  In other words, Lia’s secrets are safe with me. They have to be. Because holy shit, if this is his reaction to me using Flirt, he might just straight up murder someone if he ever found out his sister uses it.

  “None of your business.”

  “Was it Lia?” His green eyes burn into mine with an intensity I’ve never seen before. The look brings goosebumps to the back of my neck, but I manage to hold my ground.

  “None. Of. Your. Business.”

  “Veronica,” Cam sighs. “You can’t use things like Flirt. It’s too dangerous. What if the meet-up had been with a rapist or a serial killer instead of with me?”

  I roll my eyes. “Pot, meet kettle. It’s a two-way street, buddy. If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you too.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s different.”

  “Why? Because you have a dick?” He groans, scrubbing his face again. But I won’t let his re
action deter me. “As if your dick and balls will protect you from a serial killer. What are you going to do, swing them around to try and knockout your assailant? Trust me when I say, no dick is that big, no matter what your football groupies tell you.”

  “Veronica...” he groans.

  “If you can fuck strangers, I can too.”

  “You don’t need to do this, V. You’re a smart, beautiful girl. Guys are probably tripping over themselves to ask you out. Why would you need to use a hook up app?”

  My brain has trouble processing anything beyond the smart, beautiful girl part. This Adonis thinks I’m beautiful? But I shouldn’t get too fanciful. He’s probably just being nice. Kind of like when someone asks you if you like their new haircut and you say it looks great even though what you’re really thinking is a bird must have made a nest on their head.

  Cam had asked me a question. I need to focus on that instead of daydreaming about my best friend’s brother finding me attractive. And the best way to deflect a question is to throw it right back at him.

  “Why would you need to use a hook up app? You’re a star football player.”

  Cam mutters something I can’t quite make out under his breath.

  “What was that?”

  “I said I’m not a star,” he grumbles. Facing forward, he rests his head against the steering wheel. “I’m not even the starting quarterback anymore. Theo Montgomery is.”

  I blink, unsure what to make of his comment. “Theo?”

  “Yeah. He’s QB1. The starter.”

  “I know what QB1 means.” I follow football. I know Theo Montgomery, a junior, is widely considered to be Carlton’s star athlete. What I didn’t know is that Cam is bothered by this. He’s never mentioned it to me and Lia hasn’t said anything either. “But you were never QB1. Your freshman and sophomore year, you were the back up. And even last season, you and Theo switched off until the coach picked him to be the permanent starter.”