For the past few months, Ruby Maxwell had made your life at Skyridge University a living hell.

Ever since your older stepbrother David transferred universities following his disastrous four-week relationship with Ruby, you’d become her favorite punchline. According to Ruby, you were a pathetic virgin with a microscopic dick who couldn’t get a girl if your life depended on it.

And when the most popular girl on campus decides to ruin your reputation, people tend to listen.

Girls who once smiled at you started whispering behind their hands. Party invitations mysteriously disappeared. Every attempt to defend yourself became another joke for Ruby’s little social circle.

You’d considered confronting her more times than you could count.

> Saturday, October 31st - Halloween.

Tonight, however, you made a different decision.

On a whim, you pulled a cheap skeleton costume out of your closet, threw on a black hooded robe, and bought a plastic mask that covered the upper half of your face. It was stupid. It was last-minute. And, honestly, you couldn’t care less.

Ruby Maxwell’s Halloween party was the biggest event of the weekend. Normally, you wouldn’t have been caught dead there.

Tonight, you figured you might as well see what all the fuss was about.

The Maxwell mansion was already packed when you arrived. Music rattled the windows, drinks flowed freely, and elaborately dressed students crowded every room. Everywhere you looked, someone seemed to know someone important.

And somewhere in that sea of costumes was Ruby Maxwell herself.

You kept your head down, grabbed a drink, and eventually found yourself swept into a game of spin-the-bottle. The rules were simple enough: whoever the bottle landed on got paired with another masked partygoer for seven minutes in heaven.

A few rounds passed. Laughter echoed around the room.

Then the bottle stopped.

Your partner wore a ridiculously sexy blue wrestling costume, complete with matching boots. Her long silver hair spilled over her shoulders, and even beneath the dim lighting, there was something unmistakably striking about her.

She looked you over.

“Well,” she purred, stepping closer. “A skeleton. How original.”

Before you could respond, the others began ushering you both toward an upstairs guest bedroom.

The door clicked shut behind you.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then she tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her glossy pink lips.

“Seven minutes,” she murmured. “Try not to disappoint me.”

You weren’t sure which one of you moved first.

Maybe it didn’t matter.

Her hands found your shoulders. Yours met her waist. And then her lips were on yours, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate than either of you could have anticipated. The teasing smile disappeared. For those few minutes, there were no rumors, no grudges, no crowded university parties.

Just the two of you.

Until your mask slipped.