I march into Randolph Hall, my cheeks hot and my heart racing…and immediately spot a face in the crowd that brings a demonic smile to my face. The golden god himself, Jake Grayson, is sitting in a middle row of the lecture hall, surrounded by a bunch of athletic-looking dudes.

I turn to Tyler walking into the classroom behind me. “Oh, look, there’s Jake,” I say primly. “Hey, do you think the universe is trying to tell me something? You advised me to find a nice guy who’ll buy me a cheeseburger before de-virginizing me and two days later, lo and behold, I find myself in a classroom with the one guy everyone in the world seems to think is the nicest, sweetest guy in the world.”

“Fuck,” Tyler mutters under his breath, his smug smile from a moment ago gone.

“I wonder if Jake likes cheeseburgers.”

“Zooey, listen to me. Jake’s not the guy for you.”

But I’m not listening to him. I’m too busy holding my pinky to my mouth like Dr. Evil.

“Ty!” Jake shouts, as if on cue.

“Will you introduce us?” I ask, batting my eyelashes. “I heard he’s super nice.”

“Come on,” Tyler says, grabbing my arm. But he doesn’t lead me toward Jake. He shoots a clipped wave toward Jake and the guys sitting with him and drags me toward two vacant seats in the front row.

I sit in the seat indicated by Tyler and pull out my laptop, my heart pounding in my ears. Oh, my, this is going to be fun.

Tyler leans in to my ear. “We both know you don’t want Jake. If you wanted him over me, you would have flirted with him at the party when he was drooling all over you and asking everyone who you were.”

“What?” I ask, floored.

“But you didn’t,” Tyler continues, obviously unaware he’s just revealed something to me I didn’t already know. “You went straight for me. And I went straight for you. Because we were magnet and steel. So fuck that bastard.”

I don’t reply. Holy shit.

A middle-aged woman with blonde, frizzy hair glides to a lectern at the front of the room and greets the class.

“To be continued, magnet,” Tyler whispers, pulling away from me.

“We’ll see about that, steel.”

“Count on it.”

The professor welcomes the class and, for the next twenty minutes, gives us an overview of Social Psychology and the structure of her ten-week class. “Your grade will be based on two things,” the professor explains. “A final exam and a midterm project you’ll complete with a partner.” She explains that each partnership duo will devise and conduct a series of experiments to explore any social psychology theory and then submit a written analysis of their findings. “So let’s go through the partner assignments, shall we?” the professor says, holding up a piece of paper. “And, please, nobody ask me to switch partners. Out there in the real world, you’re going to have to work with colleagues or bosses you might not otherwise pick on occasion, so you might as well get used to doing that now.”

I look at Tyler, my expression telling him he’s the one person in this classroom I don’t want as a partner. He holds up crossed fingers in reply, telling me he’s praying to get assigned to me. In response, I flash him a look that says, If I were assigned to you as my partner, I’d throw myself off a bridge. And what does the cocky bastard do in reply to that? He winks and blows me a little kiss.

The professor reads off the first two names on her list and then makes small talk with the duo. After that, she repeats the exercise about eight more times before finally saying, “Tyler Caldwell?”

My stomach seizes. Please, God, don’t let her say my name next. I don’t have any desire to be attached at the hip to this egomaniac for the next five weeks, working on a project worth half my grade. Surely, if I were assigned to work with Tyler, we’d wind up having a one-night stand at some point, simply because he’s gorgeous and sexy, and I’m only human. And then, following that, everything between us would feel tense and awkward, and our project would surely suffer. Not good.

Tyler raises his arm in response to the professor calling his name. “Hi, Professor.”

The professor flashes Tyler a beaming smile. “Great game the other night. I lost my mind when you made that interception at the last minute. I thought I was going to pass out.”

Tyler chuckles. “I had a similar reaction.”

Everyone laughs.

“How on earth did you make that catch?” the professor asks, her eyes sparkling with obvious admiration. “It’s like you had a jet pack on your back.”

Tyler chuckles again. “It was equal parts adrenaline and luck.”

“And talent,” the professor adds. “Supernatural talent.”

Tyler’s teammates at the back of the room groan.

“Don’t encourage him!” one of the guys sitting near Jake calls out.

“Oh, pipe down,” the professor says playfully. “I’m just giving credit where it’s due. That was one of the most acrobatic interceptions I’ve ever witnessed, and I’ve watched a lot of football in my life.”

“Come on, Prof,” one of the players in the back shouts. “Don’t make his head even bigger than it already is. With all the interceptions Tyler’s been racking up this season already, his head could barely fit through the doorway of the classroom as it is!”

Everyone laughs, including the professor and me.

“Okay, okay,” the professor says gaily. She flashes a warm smile at Tyler. “Stay humble, Tyler. If not, you’re going to get me into trouble here.”

“Always.”

The guys at the back of the room groan and scoff again.

The professor looks down at her paper again, smiling from ear to ear. “Okay, Tyler. You want to know your partner assignment?”

Tyler looks at me and winks. “Make it a good one.”

“Your partner is…”

My stomach squeezes. Please, God, no.

“…Aaron Heckerling.”

A loud cheer erupts from the guys at the back of the room. I turn toward the commotion just in time to see an attractive, dark-haired guy next to the golden god fist-pumping the air.

“Well, hello, Aaron,” the professor says, chuckling at the guy’s exuberance. “I take it you’re familiar with Tyler here?”

“He’s my boy,” Aaron says. “My partner in crime.”

“We live together,” Tyler explains.

“Ah, well, in that case, I’ll expect you two to turn in a particularly stellar project, seeing as how you’ll be able to spend so much time working on it together.”

“I’ve never seen that guy before in my life,” Tyler deadpans, and everyone, including me, cracks up.

After reading off ten or so more pairings, the professor finally says my name.

“Here,” I say, shooting my arm up. Oh, God, this is nerve-wracking. Give me a role with a script and I’m perfectly comfortable. Ask me to make small talk with a total stranger as myself, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

The professor chats with me for a moment, eliciting the facts that I’m a freshman theater major and that I’m in this class to fulfill my science requirement. Finally, she says, “All right, Zooey. Your partner is …”

I hold my breath.

“Jake Grayson.”

I laugh out loud, just as Tyler mutters, “Motherfucker.”

I turn around and look at Jake several rows behind me. We exchange waves and polite smiles. And then I glance at Tyler and force down a giggle at the sight of him. He looks like he wants to punch a wall.

The professor fawns all over Jake for a while, telling him how magnificently he played the other night, and how much she admires his talent and skill, and oh my God, she hopes and prays we make it into another bowl game at the end of this season under his deft leadership! And all the while, Tyler’s tense body language makes it clear he’s losing his freaking mind. And, honestly, I’m not sad about it.

When the professor moves along to the next names on her list, I lean into Tyler’s broad shoulder. “I have this weird feeling the universe is trying to tell me something. I’m just not sure what it is.”

“It’s telling you to be at my house at eight,” he whispers back.

“Gee, I don’t think so. I can’t be sure but I think it’s saying… Wait. Hang on.” I put my hand to my ear like I’m listening to a faraway voice. “Oh. I think I hear it now. It’s saying Jaaaaaaaake.”

The professor finishes reading from her partners list and wraps up the class. “Don’t forget to exchange contact information with your partners, everyone. You’re going to be working closely together for the next five weeks. Oh, and make sure you check the syllabus for the reading assignment. I’ll see you on Wednesday!”

I lean into Tyler. “Best class ever.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot better,” he mutters. With that, he lurches out of his seat and beelines up the aisle toward Jake and his teammates.

I watch Tyler striding up the steps. His movement is graceful and powerful. When he reaches Jake, he puts his muscled arm around his friend’s shoulders like a mob boss, and whispers into his ear.

Dang it. If ever there was a time I could use some bionic hearing, now would be it. That handsome guy with dark hair who was paired with Tyler leans into the huddle. The three of them pow-wow. Jake fist-bumps Tyler and then the dark-haired guy, and the three of them head down the aisle toward me.

Immediately, I look down and begin packing up my laptop, awaiting Tyler’s inevitable return. But when he still hasn’t approached me in what seems like more than enough time, I look up. Crap. All three guys are talking to the professor at the lectern! What the hell? I watch the action closely, taking in the guys’ facial expressions. Oh, man, those boys are all pouring on the charm. The professor’s back is facing me, but her body language seems highly receptive to whatever they’re saying. And now, all three boys appear to be saying variations of “Thank you, Professor.” Suddenly, it’s abundantly clear to me. I’m going to be partnered with Tyler Caldwell, whether I like it or not.

“Zooey Cartwright?” the professor calls out. She scans the crowd, apparently not remembering which student is me.

I walk toward the lectern like Anne Boleyn shuffling stoically toward the chopping block.

“Hi, Zooey,” the professor says warmly.

I glance at Tyler, and he smiles like an executioner unsheathing his sword.

“I don’t know if you’re aware that Jake here is the quarterback of the football team?” the professor says.

“Yes, of course.” I glance at Jake and blush crimson when he flashes me a huge smile.

“Well, Jake was just telling me about some of the demands on his time, things he has to do each week that aren’t necessarily required of anyone else on the team—or anyone else at the entire school, frankly. And so, because of Jake’s special situation, he says he’d be extremely grateful if I’d make an exception to my ‘no switching partners’ rule, just this once.”

My eyes flicker ever so briefly to Tyler, and he flashes me a look that’s so cocky, I want to slap it off him.

“So, if it’s okay with you,” the professor continues, “I’m hoping you’ll be amenable to a switch? Jake seems to think it would make the most sense for him and the team if he’s paired with another player, preferably one on the offense, since those are the players who share Jake’s practice schedule. Aaron here is a wide receiver so he’d be a good fit.”

Oh, for the love of all things holy. What the hell kind of snow job is this? My dad played college ball, so I happen to know the offensive and defensive players attend the same practices at the same times. Yeah, Jake probably spends more time than other players watching films and working with his quarterback coach, but there’s absolutely no reason why he and Aaron would have “the exact same practice schedule” any more than Jake and any defensive player. I look at the three guys. All of them are smiling at me. But Tyler’s smile is nothing short of diabolical.

“Um. Sure. No problem,” I say.

The professor looks at Tyler. “You’re sure this swap will work for you, Tyler?”

“Yep. Anything to help Jake,” Tyler replies.

The professor looks concerned. “You don’t think you should maybe be assigned to a teammate, too, given the heavy demands on your time with practices and games and travel?”

I roll my eyes. What the heck happened to “Don’t bother asking me to change partners”? Perhaps the professor more accurately should have said, “Don’t bother asking me to change partners, unless you’re a handsome football star, in which case go right ahead.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tyler says. “But thanks so much for asking. I’ve got a lot going on, for sure, but not quite as much as Jake. He’s got to be ready to command the entire ship, as it were. I’ve just got to be ready to chase after whatever guy on the opposing team happens to be going after the little brown ball.” He smiles like he’s just uttered the understatement of the year, and the professor giggles.

Christ almighty. Of all the professors on this campus, I had to get the one who’s a diehard football fan?

“If it helps Jake, then I’m more than happy to partner with Chloe here,” Tyler adds magnanimously.

“Zooey,” the professor corrects.

One side of Tyler’s mouth hitches up. “Zooey. So sorry.”

“No problem, Taylor,” I say.

“Tyler,” Tyler says. “Tyler Caldwell.”

I return his smirk. “Tyler. So sorry.”

The professor claps her hands together. “Okay, I’ll see you all on Wednesday, then.” She begins gathering her stuff, signaling this conversation is now over.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and march toward the exit.

“Zooey!” the professor calls after me and I turn around, a fake smile on my face. “Be sure to get Tyler’s contact information. You two will need to get together to map out your game plan for the next five weeks.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Professor,” Tyler says sweetly. “Yeah, we’ll want to get together as soon as possible, for sure.”

I nod. It’s all I can muster at the moment. Without saying a word or even glancing at Tyler, I turn on my heel and march out of the classroom.