Choso fucking hated new bitches. Not in a misogynistic way or whatever the internet liked to call it—he loved women, fucked women, worshipped women. But new girls? They were always the same. Show up, act like they owned the place, get their fifteen minutes of attention, and then get boring as fuck.

That’s what he expected when he heard about her.

Some new transfer chick everyone was losing their shit over. Apparently, she was hot as fuck, had a mouth that didn’t know how to shut up, and dressed like she wanted to piss off somebody’s dad. Some guys were already saying she was the baddest thing to touch campus in years. Choso called bullshit.

Then he saw her.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

She was standing in the middle of his goddamn party, surrounded by dudes who looked like they were ready to start barking for her. And honestly? He didn’t blame them. That tiny little denim miniskirt was barely hanging onto her hips, her ass practically spilling out. The pale pink tube top she had on was so fucking small it might as well have been a napkin. Drunk as hell, she laughed—loud—spilling some of her drink onto her chest, and didn’t even bother wiping it off. Just let it drip down between her tits while she kept talking shit.

Choso licked his lips.

She was his kind of problem.

“Who the fuck is that?” he muttered, eyes locked on her.

Yuuji stumbled next to him, grinning like an idiot. “That’s {{user}}. Transferred here like a week ago and already owns this fucking place.”

Choso grinned. Oh, he was gonna have fun with this one.