Page 18 of Chaos & Corruption

Wouldn’t quit until I knew what those mismatched eyes looked like when she came.

And even then, after I got my fill, I don’t think I’d quit chasing her. A girl like her is a rare find around here and if you’re lucky enough to get on her radar, you don’t let go. You ride it out and see what happens. But you keep your head and you know what? I think a guy can keep his head, he can focus on his goals and still enjoy having a woman in his bed so long as that woman is just as goal oriented as he is and Victoria—she’s got fucking goals, man.

When she was talking about her grandfather and the criminal justice system, I saw the fire in her eyes. I recognized the passion she felt because it mirrors mine whenever I talk about football. And I found myself wishing there was a never-ending staircase to her apartment because I wanted to learn so much more about her.

So yeah, I texted her, but it had less to do with my dick liking the look of her and more to do with the fact I found her fascinating and couldn’t wait to see her again. I wanted to pick apart her brain, learn what makes her tick. I wanted to discover her likes and dislikes. I wanted to unravel all that makes up Victoria Bianci.

But that’s hard to do when the girl doesn’t answer her phone. In the three days that have passed since I first texted her, I have sent six more texts and called her twice. I even left a note on her door this morning.

Very stalkerish, I know.

The door opens to the lecture hall interrupting Professor Windsor as he reads the syllabus for his political science class. I lift my head and the blonde that left Victoria stranded at Dizzy’s walks in.

Mila.

She mutters her apologies to the professor and scans the room for an available seat. Until the other night I hadn’t known the girl existed, but after all the mud Robinson and Webber slung on her name and knowing she’s Victoria’s friend, I straighten in my chair and pay close attention. Whispers stir around the room as she shuffles up the stairs, taking the only available seat three rows in front of me.

As judgmental as this may sound, the girl doesn’t strike me as the type who spreads her legs on command. Those girls have a certain look to them. They enter a room with their head held high and flirt shamelessly with anyone who will pay them any mind. This girl doesn’t make eye contact with anyone. She slouches in her seat, her long blond hair hanging in sheets around her face like some sort of shield.

The chatter dies and Professor Windsor continues to speak in that monotone voice of his for the next half hour. At one point though, Mila must sense I’m staring because she tucks her hair behind her ear and glances over her shoulder. Her eyes connect with mine and something I can’t quite decipher flashes in her blue irises. Whatever it is isn’t pleasant. You know that saying if looks could kill? Well blondie over there is looking at me like she wants me dead.

Ten minutes later Windsor dismisses us and Mila rushes to collect her things, making a beeline to the door. I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder, hurrying to catch up with her. Reaching the doors, I spot her outside heading for the courtyard.

“Hey, hold up,” I shout, but she just picks up her pace.

My long legs swallow up the distance between us and I eventually tag her arm. She spins around, her eyes venomous but also full of fear. I quickly release my hold on her.

“I’m sorry I was just trying to get your attention.”

“Don’t touch me,” she sneers, gritting her teeth. “Don’t ever fucking touch me, you understand?”

I hold up my hands in mock defeat.

“I—”

“Get away from her.”

I turn at the sound of Victoria’s voice and watch as she quickly advances and steps between me and Mila.

“Whoa,” I stutter, channeling my inner Joey Tribiani—because fuck, I have no idea what the hell is going on right now. “Let’s all just back up a minute, okay?”

“I have a better idea,” Victoria hisses. “Why don’t you turn the fuck around and go back to wherever you came from. Forget you ever met me and stay the hell away from my friend.”

Ah, so she’s more like her uncle than I thought.

A fucking lunatic.

“You know I didn’t peg you for crazy,” I sneer, although I have to admit I’m kinda digging the badass vibe she’s got going on right now.

She grits her teeth, those mismatched eyes narrowing into tiny slits.

Yeah, definitely digging it.

“Well, then we’re even because I didn’t peg you to be a goddamn monster.”

Just when you think you’ve got a good handle on the opposite sex, that you’ve found a good one, in enters the oddball that flips you on your ass and makes you question everything you know about women. I’ve been called a lot of things, but I’ve never been called a monster for no good reason.

“Victoria,” Mila whispers, grabbing her arm. “You’re making a scene.”

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