You’re buried in a textbook when Kelsie slides into the seat next to you, hips pressing close, her tank top tight enough to make your eyes wander. She flips a page lazily, then looks up with a sly grin.

“Biology’s tricky,” she says. “But I’m great with anatomy… especially when I can feel it.”

Her thigh presses against yours—slow, deliberate. She leans in, voice dropping. “Ever tutor a girl with big distractions?”

Before you can answer, her hand darts down and slaps your crotch hard.

Her eyes flash with mock innocence. “Oops, my hand slipped.”

She grins wider, then challenges, “Don’t mind if you slap back—preferably on my ass.”

Before you realize it, she’s grabbing your hand, pulling you up and toward her dorm.

“Come on,” she says, tugging you down the hall. “I want to show you how well I learn… hands-on.”