Nerdgasm (Naughty Nerds) Read online

  “Is that who you keep texting?” I eye her cell suspiciously. Who is this guy?

  “None of your business.” She clutches her phone to her chest, hiding the screen from me.

  “I’m going to find out eventually, Demi.”

  “Yeah, well, eventually isn’t right now. How do I look?”

  “Like a goddess,” I answer honestly. Her wavy tresses are braided away from her face into a messy bun at the base of her neck, and the style perfectly suits the long toga she’s wearing. I’m used to Demi wearing glasses and covering up so that she’s not showing a lot of skin, but she’s different tonight. She’s wearing the contacts she so rarely uses, and while her toga covers her skin, it hugs her figure more than her usual clothing. It’s odd seeing her curves on display, and a feeling of protectiveness surges through me as I look at her. “This mystery guy better treat you like one.”

  “We’ll see,” she chirps. “And thank you, Theo. You’re so sweet.”

  She leans in to give me a hug and a friendly peck on the cheek, which I return.

  “Ready to get this toga party over with?”

  “I sure am. I think you’ll be surprised by how much you enjoy it, Theo.”

  Doubtful, but I’m willing to give it a shot. As we make the short drive over to the frat house hosting the party, I can’t help but think of Addy.

  This week without her has been awful. Between my own classes and helping Cohen, finals week has kept me extremely busy, so much so that I barely had a moment to let myself think of other things. Outside of studying and working, the only bright spots in my day have come from my now doubled visits to the pool and Demi distracting me.

  Our week is just about up, and I plan on taking Demi’s advice. I’ll support my best friend tonight, but I fully intend on visiting Addy tomorrow and talking things out. The time apart has helped me realize she does have a point. I’ve come a long way to manage and accept my stutter, but there are still times where I get self-conscious about it. I don’t know if that’ll ever go away, but I’m man enough to admit how things are.

  Demi’s voice breaks through the fog of my thoughts. “You ready?”

  I shake my head to clear my girlfriend from the forefront of my mind and see that we’re already parked on the street where the party is being held. “I guess.”

  We unbuckle and head up to the house, making our way around abandoned red cups while the bass from the music inside thumps into the night. Students wearing togas in various degrees of indecency mingle around the front door and in the entryway, the crush of bodies becoming more dense the farther we head in.

  I lean down to speak in Demi’s ear so she can hear me. “Where’s your guy?”

  She fires off a text and glances around the crowded living room, clearly searching for him. “Who?”

  “Um, your guy?”

  “Oh, yeah. Him.” Her gaze flickers around again. “He’s around here somewhere. I’ll be right back. If I don’t see you before the night is over, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

  Before I can say anything or question why I wouldn’t see her later on tonight, she darts off into the throng of people who are mingling, dancing, or chugging alcohol.

  Discomfort and feelings of awkwardness start to creep in as I stand here alone, the toga and boxer briefs I’m wearing making me feel even more exposed. I look out over the sea of people around me, almost desperate to find Demi or someone else I recognize, when I feel a gentle poke in my ribs.

  Turning to look at what jabbed me, I find a pair of blondes who look vaguely familiar peering up at me. They’re both wearing togas, except their variation is a lot more revealing than Demi’s.

  “Theo?” one titters, red-cheeked and smiling.

  “Yes?” Why are they talking to me, and where do I know them from?

  “Theo Cadwell?” the other asks, placing emphasis on my last name.

  “That’s me. Can I help you?” My brow furrows in confusion as I look at them.

  “Oh, my God. I told you it was him!” The first girl ignores me as she glances at her friend triumphantly. She looks back to me and continues to clarify. “You’re our TA in our class with Wilder. We were debating on whether or not you were, well, you.”

  They both giggle at that statement, and I look between the two, completely lost. “Um, why wouldn’t I be me?”

  More laughter. “Well, we didn’t recognize you. You’re so…” the second girl trails off as her eyes scan me from waist to chin, lingering over my exposed skin. I can see her friend doing the same out of the corner of my eye, and my face warms at their slow perusal of my body. “You don’t seem the party type. Not to mention, you certainly don’t dress like this in class.”

  I state the obvious. “Class isn’t a toga party.”

  My unenthusiastic response doesn’t deter them. “Clearly,” they both say at the same time.

  “I’m Sonya,” the first girl says with a little wave. “This is Lydia.” She gestures to her friend with a tilt of her head. “Imagine our surprise when the hottie we were checking out from across the room turned out to be the very same TA we see every Thursday. Except now, you look a lot less...buttoned up.”

  They both lock eyes and laugh.

  “I’m s-sorry? W-what?” I’m caught off guard by the blatant admission to checking me out.

  “How cute is that stutter?” Lydia asks Sonya.

  I’m mentally taken aback by the realization that people other than Addy find my stutter attractive, but I’m even more surprised that I don’t give a shit what they think. The only person who I care about liking my stutter is my girlfriend, and I feel my heart squeeze at the thought of her.

  “Thanks.” I need to extricate myself from this conversation.

  “Of course,” Sonya—or is it Lydia?—purrs. “If you’re up for it, we’d love to show you a good time.” She pauses, staring at me as I look down at the two of them. “Together,” she emphasizes with a smirk and lift of a manicured eyebrow.

  Embarrassment dawns on me as I realize what they’re implying. “Thanks, but n-no thanks. I have a g-girlfriend.”

  How is this happening to me? I glance up, looking for an escape, when my eyes land on the last person I expected to see across the room.

  “Addy.” Her name leaves my lips on a sigh, nearly silent but heavy with longing.

  Thankfully, the blonde duo doesn’t hear me, nor do they look overly put out. “Well, if you’re ever single or change your mind, our offer still stands.”

  Manners escape me as I mutter a despondent “thanks” and step around them to move toward Addy.

  Outside of a brief glimpse of her on Thursday during finals, we haven’t seen each other, and we definitely haven’t spoken. It’s only been a week, but with how we left things, it was a week too long.

  I miss her. Desperately.

  My eyes drink in her profile greedily, cataloguing every detail as I maneuver through the group of people on my way to her.

  She’s a vision in a short toga, the white fabric emphasizing her lithe figure and the golden tones of her skin.

  My fingers itch to touch the honey-blonde hair cascading down her back, looking even more golden because of the burnished laurel headband adorning her like a crown.

  Her flat stomach is bare but for the twisted fabric of the dress crisscrossing her midsection, and pride and disbelief war within me that I’m the one she’s dating.

  She hasn’t seen me yet, and I’m half the distance to her when she turns, affording me a clearer view of her face.

  I falter, my steps halting when I see a scowl on her normally smiling face. The indignant expression she’s wearing is at odds with the lively party going on around her, and when she opens her mouth to say something, a brawny arm reaches out to grip her arm and pull her close. My eyes immediately swivel to whoever just grabbed her, and ice runs through my veins when I realize who it is.

  Brock.

  Sixteen

  Addy

  This night isn’t going how
I imagined it would.

  Things were off to a great start when I got the details from Demi, and we were texting back and forth to make sure we were both on the same page. The plan was to get dolled up, show up, and casually bump into Theo.

  Well, here I am, dolled up, shown up, and not bumping into my boyfriend.

  Instead, I’m standing here, lost in a crush of people as I wait for Theo and Demi to walk by at some point. Her text from a few minutes ago said they arrived, and I’m trying my best not to scan the party for them.

  Stay cool.

  Stay casual.

  I’m hanging out in the living room, which I thought would be the best spot since I have a clear view into the kitchen and entryway to the frat house. It’s a great place strategically, but it also puts me in everyone else’s line of sight, too. In the past fifteen minutes, I’ve had to turn down a dance from a drunken jock, decline drinks from guys I don’t know and have no interest in getting to know, and make awkward small talk with someone who claims to have had a class with me.

  The awkward small talk girl is finally dragged away by a friend, and I breathe in a sigh of relief at being alone again. I definitely don’t miss this scene or the guys who love it. Now that I know Theo’s here, I just need to be patient for a little while longer.

  Just as I think this, I feel a warm presence at my back. I can feel my lips start to lift in a smile—I really hope it’s Theo—but they immediately turn down when the person behind me speaks.

  “Oh, damn, it’s Theodork’s little girlfriend.”

  Ugh, of all places to see Brock, he has to be here.

  I try to take a page from Theo’s book and ignore him.

  Don’t engage, don’t engage, don’t engage, I repeat to myself.

  “Who knew the little nerd could get such a hot piece of ass?” Juvenile guffaws follow his words, and I can feel my ire start to rise.

  Oh, hell no, he did not just say that.

  I turn to look at him, daggers in my eyes, a frown twisting my lips, and venom dripping from my words.

  “Oh, damn, it’s Brock, the asshole. Who knew his dick would be as small as his mind? Oh, wait, I did. Jealous of Theo much?”

  His eyes widen in surprise before they narrow angrily at me. I shouldn’t have said anything, but seeing his friends try to stifle their laughter at my retort has me feeling all sorts of satisfied.

  “Why would I be jealous of that loser?”

  “Besides the fact that Theo’s smarter, better-looking, and an all around much nicer person than you? He’s also got a huge dick, and he has nothing to prove to anyone by being a full-time douchecanoe.”

  It seems as if I’ve hit a nerve and crossed a line because Brock’s face reddens as he takes a menacing step toward me. He looks apoplectic with rage, and his big arm darts out and grasps my arm roughly.

  “If you like dick so much, I’m happy to show you a real man’s.”

  Fear courses through me at his words. “Let go of me, asshole!” I smack his fist with my hand, but he doesn’t budge.

  I can’t tear my eyes off Brock, but I can feel the crowd around me start to stir at the commotion.

  “Where’s your little boyfriend, huh? No one to s-save you now?” he mocks, taunting me as he tightens his grip.

  “I’m right here,” a low, possessive voice rumbles from my left. Shock jolts my eyes away from Brock’s face, and I watch in awe as a very familiar forearm reaches out and grips Brock’s wrist. “Let Addy go, Brock. I’ll only say it once.”

  Brock looks elated to see Theo, and it’s then I realize I’ve inadvertently caused him to do what he’s been so studiously avoiding for years: engage with Brock.

  “Not gonna let your girlfriend fight your battles this time around, Theodork?”

  My gaze slides to my boyfriend, and I hardly recognize him. Besides the revealing toga showing off the broad expanse of his shoulders and lean, cut torso, his expression is fierce. Looking at him, I feel like a different man altogether replaced my sweet, non-confrontational boyfriend in the week we’ve been apart.

  Brock doesn’t seem to notice any of this because he continues to run his mouth.

  “I was just offering to show her a good time. Her pussy must be good for a nerd like you to whip his dick out.” He shakes my arm roughly as he says this, causing me to whimper in pain.

  As if in slow motion, I see Theo’s jaw and body tense at the sound. Before I can blink and truly comprehend what’s happening, his hand rears back and punches Brock squarely in the nose.

  Blood gushes down Brock’s face at the painful crack, and a collective gasp ripples and echoes through the now quiet room. He let go of me when Theo’s fist made contact with his nose, and I’m relieved when I’m moved behind Theo and a few other bystanders.

  Brock appears stunned as he stares at his blood-speckled hands for a moment, but he quickly morphs into a bull seeing red. An enraged roar fills the air, and he charges at Theo.

  To my surprise and relief, Theo calmly steps forward, stiff-arms Brock, moves behind him, and brings him to his knees. His arm is locked around Brock’s neck, and his forearm presses down on his throat, veins bulging with the effort.

  Brock flails and sputters in his grasp, but he’s unable to break free of the tight hold. Both his hands are scrabbling at Theo’s forearm, and he starts to tap his hands once his face starts to turn a mottled shade of purple.

  Theo lets up on his throat, giving him a little breathing room before he leans down to speak in his ear. “I t-told you I w-wouldn’t say it again. Now apologize.”

  He sounds so calm, but my heart squeezes when I hear his stutter. This whole ordeal is costing him more than he’s letting on.

  “Dude, I’m sorry,” Brock sputters.

  His words quickly die off when Theo tightens his forearm on his neck again. “N-not to me. To her,” he says as he jerks Brock’s body so he’s facing me. “I d-don’t give a shit what you s-say or do to me, but you crossed a line by bringing my g-girlfriend into this. You definitely crossed a line when you t-touched her. Apologize to her. N-now.”

  “I’m sorry. It w-won’t happen again.”

  It’s ironic that he’s stuttering now when that’s what he’s tormented Theo over, and I stare him down.

  “Sucks when the tables have been turned on you, huh?” I can’t help but say, hoping the truth of my words washes over him.

  “It does. I’m really sorry.”

  I can’t tell if he’s sincere in his apology, but I decide to be the bigger person. “Even though you don’t deserve it, I forgive you.”

  A look of relief passes over his face before panic flares up again when Theo leans down to speak in his ear.

  “I’ve ignored your shit for years, never defended myself because you. Are. Not. Worth. It. But this beautiful girl is, so if you ever touch or verbally abuse her again, I will not hesitate to finish what I started tonight. Got it?”

  His words are soft and crystal clear with conviction, his stutter gone in the face of his certainty.

  With a whispered “yes,” Brock nods his head as much as he can while still in Theo’s hold. When he’s finally released, he sucks in big gulps of air but stays down on his knees. He looks thoroughly embarrassed as he looks out at the crowd that has gathered, but shock washes over his features when Theo moves to face him and extends his hand to help him up.

  Overwhelming pride and gratitude and love cause my eyes to water. Not only is Theo the bigger person, he’s one of the best people I know.

  I can see Brock’s hand shake as he accepts assistance, and when he stands, I’m close enough to hear Theo’s whispered words. “Try to be a d-decent human being, okay?”

  An emphatic nod is all Brock can muster before he scurries away with his cronies close behind. It’s not until they’re out of sight that Theo realizes all eyes are on him. He flushes under the scrutiny, but before he can say anything, a tall guy with a frat t-shirt over his toga strides up to him and claps him on the back.


  “Bro, you are a badass. Way to handle that with class. Can we get this man a beer?”

  A cheer resounds, and a beer is pressed into Theo’s palm.

  “Th-thank you.” The blush staining his cheeks is adorable, and I can see the adrenaline start to leave his body as he tries to process what just went down.

  “No problem, dude. You gotta do what you gotta do to protect your lady. You’re the baddest nerd I’ve ever met,” the frat guy jokes. “I’ll be part of your nerd herd any day.”

  An awkward laugh leaves Theo’s throat, but he leans in to whisper something into the guy’s ear. I can’t hear what’s being said anymore since the party is slowly coming back to life, but the frat guy grasps his shoulder in acknowledgement and moves away.

  “Let the festivities recommence, folks!” he shouts out to the rest of the house as he steps away. His declaration is met with cheers, and it seems to jumpstart the people around us into action.

  The party around us comes back to life, but Theo’s gaze is steadfastly trained on me. We stare at each other across the few feet separating us, and we both move in tandem until we’re toe to toe. I look up at him, an apology and thank you ready on my lips, but he lifts a hand and gently presses a finger against my lips.

  “C-can we go outside, please? We n-need to t-talk.”

  His stutter signals that he’s nervous, and my tummy flips with butterflies. I nod in response and follow him out to the backyard, relief hitting me when he wraps my hand in his.

  It’s not until we reach a secluded corner of the yard, far from prying eyes and ears, that we sit down on a bench and face each other. A few weighted moments of silence hang between us before Theo speaks.