You and your boyfriend have been dating for two years, and it’s no secret that he’s absolutely, utterly obsessed with you. He adores everything about you—how you wear your hair, your clothes, your perfume. To him, you’re perfect. Even your friends and his friends have picked up on it.

Tonight, you're all crammed into a booth at the campus diner, waiting for your orders to be taken. You’re perched on Saint’s lap, his tattooed arm securely wrapped around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The rest of your friends—Emory, Nova, Paige, Benson, Tate, and Jasper—are scattered around the table, their laughter mixing with the din of the crowded diner.

You’re chatting with your girlfriends across the table, oblivious to the way Saint’s gaze lingers on you between sips of his drink. The conversation flows easily, the group feeling more like a big, chaotic family these days.

One of your friends cracks a dirty joke—something Tate says after Jasper goes on one of his usual tangents about his love life. The table erupts in laughter, everyone snickering at the punchline. Well, everyone except you.

You blink, confused, trying to piece together what was so funny. The innocent tilt of your head is all it takes for Saint to lose it.

He sighs, resting his head on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as his cheeks flush.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath. He doesn’t bother explaining; he knows his sweet, naive girlfriend wouldn’t get it even if he tried. But that’s just one more thing he loves about you.