Home > Mr. Ultra Mega Love(5)

Mr. Ultra Mega Love(5)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

I’m about to text River when the door bursts open. In waltzes a short guy, maybe five five, with brown hair, thick glasses, and a raging case of acne.

“Oh, hey. You must be Hudson.” He extends his hand. “I’m Ronno.”

“I go by Huff.” We shake quickly.

“Huff?”

“Yeah, in kindergarten my mom put my initials on my lunch pail, and I thought that was how to spell my name. H-U-F, for Hudson Ulysses Ferris. The acronym kinda stuck.” Mostly because my teacher was a rancid old woman, and I thought she was trying to make me look stupid by misspelling my name. I mean, if my mother spelled it HUF, it had to be right. Right? So every time the teacher tried to make me spell out Hudson, I had a meltdown, as in I huffed and puffed to get my way. Kindergartners. Not so rational. My family heard about it and thought it was cute. After a while, everyone just started calling me Huff.

I glance down at the junk piled on Ronno’s bed. “So is this your stuff?”

The guy frowns with confusion. “Who else’s would it be?”

“And you play football?”

“On our university’s team?” Ronno laughs. “No, man. I wish. We have one of the top teams in the country. Huge fan here. Go Blue!” He pumps his fist in the air.

I have a million questions, but maybe now isn’t the time to get into them. But seriously, why anyone wants to watch a bunch of dickheads run around a field is beyond me. “So what are you majoring in?”

“Pre-med. My dad’s got a big sports medicine practice in Miami. I plan to work with him after I’ve earned my stripes.”

I would rather break jocks than fix them, but whatever. “Cool.”

“And you? What’s your major?” Ronno asks.

“Computer science.” I shrug. “Probably going into programming or something.” I realize I don’t sound too enthusiastic about it, but that’s the story of my life. I don’t get pumped about anything.

My phone beeps, and I pull it from my jeans pocket. It’s River asking what room I’m in. “One sec. It’s my friend. She’s looking for me.”

I text the dorm room number to her.

River: I’m just outside. Be right up.

“So your profile says you’re a transfer. Going to rush?” Ronno asks.

“Rush what?”

“A frat?”

Fuck no. “Parties aren’t my thing.”

Ronno chuckles. “Then you’re in luck. They’ve got a frat for just about everyone, including introverted computer nerds. Good for studying and networking after graduation. You should check it out.”

I’m starting to feel like an even bigger loser here than back home. How do I know so little about university life? I suppose it doesn’t help being such a hermit. “Cool. I’ll do that—”

A knock on the door interrupts us.

“It’s my friend, River,” I say.

“Come in, River!” calls Ronno.

The door opens, and standing there is a gorgeous woman with black hair that cascades down her small shoulders, wearing a tight white tank top that shows off her big breasts. She has glossy pink lips that match her shorts and Converse.

A punch of heat slams into my stomach.

Yeah, fine. It’s not my stomach. It’s a little lower.

“River?” I swallow a dry lump in my throat.

“Huffy!” She runs at me and throws her arms around my neck.

How is this the same girl I saw two and a half years ago? And when did she grow boobs? Before, when we used to hug, it was like embracing an ironing board. Now, there are these two huge pillows in the way.

Without even thinking, my dick starts to plump.

No. No. It’s River. She’s like a sister. I have zero attraction for her, and she feels the same way. The plumping is purely a biological response to her huge tits and my pathetic, virginal body that happens to like breasts.

But I would never, ever see River as anything other than my best friend. I’d rather jerk off with sandpaper than risk losing her. My dysfunctional life would be…whatever’s worse than dysfunctional. Hell maybe?

River lets me go and bounces on the balls of her feet. “I can’t believe you’re finally here!”

“Eh-hem. And who is this goddess?” Ronno asks, wiggling his dark brows.

I flash an annoyed look at my new roomie. “This is River, my best friend since the second grade. She’s like a sister.” So back off, asshole.

“Hi, I’m Ronno. You new in town, cutie?”

“No. Third year,” she says. “But I’ve lived off campus for most of it at the Kappa Nu house.”

“Oh. Kappa Nu. The brainy beauties.” Ronno looks at me. “You didn’t mention that your best friend is a genius and a supermodel.”

River chuckles dismissively. “So what do you want to do first?” she asks me.

How’s hiding under my bed? I’ve taken all I can for one day.

I shrug. “Something chill.”

She presses her index finger into the dimple in her right cheek. She always does that when she thinks. “Well, you’ll get to see my place tonight. Why don’t we tour the university since you missed all that?”

When I was accepted, I hadn’t been sure if I’d want to live so far from home to finish my degree, so I skipped over all the newcomer bullcrap.

She continues, “Or maybe you want to eat first? I know a great pizza place.” She leans in close. “My friend works there, so he’ll sell us beer.”

River has about a month to go before her twenty-first birthday. I have about four months.

“I don’t drink, Riv,” I say. “And since when did you start?”

Ronno laughs at me. “Boy, I can tell you’re going to be loads of fun.”

“Do you mind?” I shoot him a dirty look.

“Sure, man.” Ronno holds up his hands in surrender. “I gotta go meet up with some friends anyway. Catch you later.” He turns to River and winks. “And I’ll be looking forward to your frequent visits.”

I can’t believe this guy. So full of himself.

River nods politely and waits until Ronno’s out of the room. “He doesn’t seem too bad.”

“Sure. If you don’t mind complete strangers eye-fucking your best friend.”

“Oh, stop.” River smacks my arm. “He’s harmless. So what do you want to do first?” She claps excitedly and jumps, making her tits jiggle. I will myself not to look, but they’re like magnets. “I’m just so happy you’re here! I’ve told all my sisters about you. Everyone can’t wait to meet you tonight.”

“What do you mean ‘everyone’?”

“The party. Remember? I texted you about it three weeks ago—the flowers fundraiser.”

“I thought you were raising money by selling flowers.”

“No, idiot. We’re the flowers. The Kappa Nus. The sorority house is decorated in flowers, donated from local shops, for the women’s shelter. We charge money to get in.”

I can’t handle a party. Not today. “It’s been a long day with the flying and—”

“Are you messing with me right now?” River’s frosty pink lips smash into a hard line. “I told all my sisters you’d be there.”

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