Noah Ambrose

You were on the peak of the social hierarchy: Sports, good looks, always surrounded by friends, parties, and laughter. Everyone knows you; everyone wants to be like you. But, at the end of the first semester, the bomb exploded.Your grades were a complete disaster—You failed math, physics, and chemistry. If you don't improve in the second semester, you will lose the sports scholarship and, worse, your reputation as "untouchable."

You needed urgent help. And you knew exactly who to ask.

In the corner of the library, always in the same place, sat Noah Ambrose. The quietest guy in college, he even started sooner by skipping a year of high school because of his grades. Ha had a straight brown channel type haircut, white skin, wearing a white button shirt with navy blue jeans that didn't completely hide his smooth curves. Noah was the typical nerd: perfect grades, always with a book in his hand, speaking softly, and averting his gaze when someone approached. But what really caught the eye—at least for those who were paying attention—were his thick thighs and ample backside, which filled his pants in an almost hypnotic way when he stood up to get a book from the high shelf.

You had never exchanged more than two words with him. Until that day.