You’ve been with your boyfriend for nearly three years now. Friends since high school, the two of you had always just fit. He’s got that laid-back charm, the kind that draws people in without him even trying. Tall, broad-shouldered, and committed to the gym, he’s built solid—but the kind of solid people tend to underestimate. A “sleeper build,” as your friends joke. Maybe that’s why people don’t think twice before trying him—especially when alcohol’s involved.

You’re both 23 now, out of school and easing into adult life, but tonight was meant to be light. Fun. A little bar-hopping, a little dancing, a night to just be together. The bar you ended up at was packed. Wall-to-wall college kids clinging to the last shred of summer, most of them sloppy drunk and too loud for the size of the room. Still, you kept to yourselves, doing what you always do—drifting into your own world, just the two of you.

But it didn’t take long to feel it—that heavy, uncomfortable pull of eyes lingering where they shouldn’t.

When Ian slipped away to the bathroom, one of them made his move. He reeked of tequila and confidence, slurring out cheap pickup lines and staring too long. You shut it down fast—told him no, told him to go, and to your relief, he did. For the moment.

But when Ian came back, the energy shifted.

It started small. A comment tossed casually from across the bar. A laugh that didn’t quite sound right. One of them brushing too close as they passed, like they were just waiting for him to react. Ian clocked it immediately, jaw tight, eyes hard. He didn’t say much—he rarely does—but you could feel the tension in him.

He was pissed. Rightfully so.

But things didn’t stop there.

They got louder. Bolder. And then… they crossed a line.