Hip-hop is blaring so loudly in this living room, my molars, eyeballs, and ovaries all feel like they’re thumping in time with the bass-heavy beat. A thick blanket of smoke hangs in the air, refracting colored beams of light shooting across a makeshift dance floor. And people, people, people—almost all of them holding red Solo cups or beer bottles—are packed into every nook and cranny of the cramped space. In other words, I’ve found heaven on earth.

Clarissa leans in to my ear and shouts to be heard over the loud music. “Lots of potential cherry-poppers here, huh? Wowzers!”

I nod effusively. That’s an understatement. There are more potential cherry-poppers in this one cramped room than attended my entire high school back home. “Pop, pop, pop!” I shout into Clarissa’s ear.

Clarissa taps her ear, telling me she didn’t understand the stupid thing I just said, and I swat at the air to tell her never mind.

“Anyone catch your eye?” Clarissa shouts into my ear.

Why, yes. Without hesitation, I indicate a tall, blond, muscular guy I’ve been drooling over for the past five minutes, ever since we arrived, though I’m certain he hasn’t noticed I exist. “The golden god!” I shout. “Blue shirt!”

Clarissa looks to where I’m pointing across the room, and her eyes bug out of her head. She nods effusively and gives me a thumbs-up with both hands. “He looks like a superhero!”

“Totally!” I peek at him again and swoon. “It’s wishful thinking, I know, but a girl can dream!”

Clarissa taps her ear, yet again, and I gesture, telling her to forget it.

Clarissa leans toward my ear. “Let’s talk in the kitchen!”

And off we go, working our way through the packed crowd. As we walk, I can’t help noticing more than one dude brazenly checking me out. Almost immediately, I lock eyes with a hottie with sparkling brown eyes…but then immediately look down, my cheeks bursting with heat. When I look up again, Brown Eyes is gone, supplanted by a different hottie who happens to be, at this moment, staring at my boobs. When the second hottie’s eyes migrate to mine, he flashes me a panty-melting smile…and I immediately look down again.

When I look up a third time, a Hawaiian-looking guy in a backward baseball cap is giving me the once-over. Wow. Clarissa didn’t over-promise when she said she could make me into a hottie-magnet tonight. Frankly, I don’t blame all these boys for checking me out. If I were a horny college guy, I’d check me out in this body-baring dress, too. But it’s not my revealing dress alone that’s transformed me into a hottie-magnet tonight. It’s my hair and makeup, too. I had no idea my face could be painted to look this mysteriously bitchy. Or that my curly hair could be straightened into the kind of smooth-as-silk mane I’ve always envied on models in shampoo commercials. If anyone back home saw me looking like this tonight, they wouldn’t even recognize me. Which suits me just fine, of course, considering my rather scandalous mission for the evening.

Clarissa and I enter the kitchen and begin chatting excitedly about all the potential cherry-poppers in the other room, especially the golden god. But before we’ve finished our conversation, an adorable, nerdy guy approaches and enthusiastically greets Clarissa. After introductions and small talk, I find out this sweet guy is the one who invited Clarissa to the party, and his name is Dimitri. A little more conversation and we learn he’s a third-year biochemistry major with a minor in creative writing.

“Clarissa told me you tutor a player on the team?” I say.

“Several.” Dimitri points out a couple of large guys standing around a keg on the far side of the kitchen. “And I also tutor the quarterback, Jake Grayson.” He looks around. “Hmm. I don’t see Jake in the kitchen. He must be in the other room.” Dimitri describes Jake, and it’s immediately clear he’s talking about the golden god.

“So is Jake single?” Clarissa asks, but when Dimitri’s darling face visibly falls, she quickly adds, “For Zooey. She saw him in the other room and went all weak in the knees.”

Dimitri smiles knowingly. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the universal female reaction to seeing Jake for the first time.” He looks at me. “He’s single, as far as I know. He was telling me a couple days ago that he’d just broken things off with his high school sweetheart from back home. I’d be happy to introduce you to him, if you’d like. He’s a junior. Great guy. Not a whiff of the usual athlete-womanizer-God-complex cliché with him. He’s definitely a humble, one-woman sort of guy.”

At that last comment, Clarissa and I exchange deflated looks that say, Dang it.

“I can’t say the same about some of the other guys on the team,” Dimitri continues, rolling his eyes. “I mean, lots of players are funny and entertaining, super-fun guys to hang out with and all. But when it comes to women, holy crap, they’re just shamelessly on the prowl twenty-four seven. The thing I don’t get is why otherwise sane girls throw themselves at guys like that when…”

I’ve stopped listening to Dimitri. And I’ve stopped breathing, too. A tall, dark-haired slab of male perfection just strutted into the kitchen and commanded my full attention. Oh, sweet Jesus. Who the hell is that? He’s gorgeous, though in a totally different way than the golden god in the other room. If Mr. Quarterback is Thor, then this hunk of brazen sexuality is Loki. If the golden god is sunshine, this dude is moonlight. If Jake in the other room is my future husband, then this guy blazing his way through the kitchen is the stripper I’d screw as my last hurrah during my bachelorette party in Vegas. Well, winner, winner, chicken dinner.

My future one-night stand has dark hair, muscles, and tattoos. A strong jawline with a hint of stubble. Not to mention a truly ridiculous body clad in jeans and a tight black T-shirt, which shows off his broad shoulders and bulging arms. Now, to be fair, the golden god in the other room has a ridiculous body, too. But something about the cocky way this guy carries his bountiful assets tells me and everyone within fifty yards of him he knows exactly how to use what the good lord gave him in ways the golden god doesn’t.

Oh, fuckity. He’s walking in my direction and making my heart pound harder and harder with each step he takes. Finally, when he’s mere feet away from me, I’m able to make out the white lettering emblazoned across his black T-shirt. God’s Gift to Womankind. That’s what Loki’s T-shirt says! Ha! I roll my eyes to myself. And to think I’d been nervous I wouldn’t be able to spot a womanizer at this party.

Mr. God’s Gift to Womankind stops walking to chat with a group of people, and they high-five him and pat him on the back like he’s the second coming of Christ.

I grab Clarissa’s arm and lean in to her ear. “Dark hair. Tattoos. Black shirt. Everyone’s fawning all over him.” I indicate with my elbow. “Read his T-shirt. Total douchebag.”

Clarissa follows my gaze toward the guy…at the exact moment he turns his head away from his group…and looks straight at me. Shocked, I look down at my hands, my heart clanging. Holy hell, that was quite a smolder that boy just directed at me. Damn.

“Zooey,” Clarissa whispers into my ear, poking my arm. “He’s looking right at you. Look at him!”

But I can’t muster the courage. The smolder Loki aimed at me was so sexual, it flash-melted the cotton crotch of my panties.

Clarissa nudges me again. “He’s ogling you! Ogle him back!”

“I suck at flirting,” I murmur. “I warned you.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” She grabs my forearm and leans in to me. “Now listen to me, Karate Kid. Stare that hottie down right freaking now for a slow count of five. Look into his eyes and think this exact thought—I want to suck your dick. Now do it!”

I take a deep breath, channel my inner vixen, and look up, resolved to follow my master’s rather shocking instructions…but, dammit, no! God’s Gift to Womankind isn’t looking at me anymore. He’s on the move, working his way through the crowded kitchen, fist-bumping and high-fiving admirers as he goes. “Crap,” I whisper to Clarissa. “I blew it.”

“No, no. That was just round one,” Clarissa says. “That boy’s not even close to done with you yet.”

Dimitri wraps up a conversation he’s been having with that Hawaiian-looking dude from the other room and then returns his attention to us. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing much,” Clarissa says. “We were just talking about our classes.”

“What classes are you ladies taking this quarter?”

Clarissa takes one for the team and launches into telling Dimitri about her class schedule so I can continue eyeball-stalking God’s Gift to Womankind across the kitchen. I peek in his direction and…Gah! He’s staring right at me again! Standing at the keg in the corner with a group of athletic-looking guys and staring right at me!

My inner voice is screaming at me to look away. But I force myself to maintain eye contact and follow Mr. Miyagi’s instructions to a tee. Slowly, I count to five, my eyes locked with his. I want to suck your dick, I think, making myself blush.

A broad smile spreads across his handsome face. He licks his lips in a decidedly sexual way, sending warmth oozing into my crotch. I quickly look down at my hands again, my heart racing. Holy crap.