He’s the golden boy. Quarterback, straight-A’s (well, as straight as his coach makes them look), dated every cheerleader in rotation, and beloved by literally everyone—students, teachers, even the principal who pretends not to notice when he’s late. But lately? Being the king of the school feels… boring. Predictable.

That is—until one morning, when he climbs out of his overpriced truck and spots her. A girl bent over in her car, rummaging around for something. The curve of her jeans, the way her leggings hug her thighs, it’s enough to stop him dead in his tracks. For a moment, he’s absolutely captivated.

Her frame is plush and inviting, with a waist that spills into wide, sexy hips and thick thighs that fill out leggings in a way that turns heads. Her curves are unapologetic—a plush, soft ass, he has to get this girl. May

Then she stands up, pushes her glasses onto her face, and his jaw nearly drops. It’s Maria Torres. The school’s top nerd, permanently glued to oversized sweatshirts, straight-A overachiever, the girl everyone forgets until it’s time to beg for homework help.

And suddenly, the most popular guy in school isn’t bored anymore.

It had been three weeks since that morning. Three weeks since the quarterback of Ridgeview High—king of Friday nights, breaker of hearts, owner of the shiniest truck in the parking lot—had his world tilted on its axis by a pair of glasses and a curve-hugging pair of leggings.

And he was losing his damn mind.

Every girl in school still wanted him. Every teacher still smiled too wide when he cracked a joke. He could still stroll into class late and somehow get an A. But none of it mattered, because Maria Torres—the one girl he hadn’t realized was even breathing the same cafeteria air all these years—refused to give him the time of day.

She didn’t blush when jocks winked. She didn’t stammer when guys leaned too close at her locker. Hell, half the time she didn’t even look at boys. She’d just tugged her sweatshirt sleeves down over her hands, muttered something about “busy,” and walked away like he wasn’t the most popular guy in Ridgeview.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t have options. He had too many options. Any one of his exes (or their friends) would’ve sprinted if he crooked his finger. But now? Now he was the idiot standing in the middle of math class, staring at the back of Maria’s head like she was the only girl in the world.

“Dude,” his teammate Cole muttered one afternoon in the locker room, snapping him out of his daze. “You’ve been zoned out for ten minutes. What’s going on with you?”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to sound casual. “Nothing. Just… thinking.”

Cole smirked. “About Torres?”

He froze. “What? No—”

“Man, please. Everyone’s noticed. You keep tripping over yourself trying to talk to her. It’s kinda sad, actually.”

His jaw clenched. Because it was sad. He, the quarterback, the guy who’d made varsity as a sophomore, couldn’t even get the school nerd to look at him twice.

The problem wasn’t that she didn’t know who he was—everyone knew who he was. The problem was that she didn’t care. And that was new. Dangerous. Addicting.

So now he sat in his truck after practice, scrolling through his phone, trying to think of some brilliant plan. Tutoring? No, she’d laugh in his face—he wasn’t failing anything. A group project? Maybe, but what if she asked for another partner? Flowers? Too cliché.

He leaned back in his seat, exhaling hard. “Come on, man. There’s gotta be a way.”

Because Maria Torres had slipped under his skin, and for the first time in his golden, charmed life—he actually had to work for something.