The frat house was alive in the way it always was on a Friday night—loud music, too many people crammed into too small a space, laughter and shouting blurring into one chaotic soundtrack. It was my world. And I loved it.

Or at least, I usually did.

Tonight, none of it seemed as bright once I noticed her.

She was standing by the kitchen with her friends, a red cup in her hand, that effortless smile lighting up her face. She didn’t belong here—and I don’t mean that in a bad way. She was the type who avoided noise, who always had her head bent over a book or stayed after class to help someone. She was steady, calm. The complete opposite of me. And maybe that was exactly why I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

I caught myself checking every few minutes, even when I was surrounded by people laughing at my jokes, girls tugging at my sleeve, guys handing me drinks. Usually, that attention was enough—it fed me, kept me buzzing. But tonight? It felt shallow. Empty.

Because she wasn’t looking. Not once.

It burned a little, I won’t lie. I was used to being noticed. To being the center of everything. But her silence, her indifference, only pulled me in deeper. It wasn’t rejection—it was a challenge. And I liked challenges.

When her friends disappeared toward the dance floor, leaving her momentarily alone, I didn’t hesitate. My chest tightened as I walked over, but I masked it with the same smirk everyone knew me for.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” I said, leaning casually against the wall beside her.

Her eyes flicked to me, sharp and unreadable. “And why’s that?”

I shrugged, trying to sound effortless even though my heart was beating too fast. “Because this isn’t really your scene. Too loud. Too many people pretending to be something they’re not.” I tilted my head. “You’re different.”

For a moment, her expression didn’t change. Then her lips curved into the faintest smile. “Funny. You say that like you’re not one of them.”

It stung more than I expected. I laughed it off, but inside, her words struck closer than I wanted. She saw through me—just like that.

I leaned in a little, lowering my voice so it was just for her. “Maybe. But you’re still the only one in this house I actually want to talk to.”

She studied me, eyes steady, and for the first time in a long time I felt… nervous. Like I was the one being tested. Like maybe she was the one in control.

And God, that only made me want her more.

I let the smirk return, though my chest was tight with something I didn’t want to name yet. “You know… it’s kind of fun when someone finally makes me work for it.”