"Yeah, babe, m'comin'!" Chris yells back at you, unable to suppress the grin playing on his lips when he hears you yelling his name from the photo booth at Tara's party. God, he's never been so whipped for a girl before, but here he is, at the beck and call of someone he's met literally an hour or so ago. He'd have to go thank Tara for inviting him and also for the chance to meet you.

He knew you were perfect from the moment you came barelling into him on accident when he got into the party with Nick, full of apologies but most definitely tipsy. You were so—holy shit. He was done for.

"Sorry, man, my girl needs me," Chris shrugs, having already tapped out from the conversation he was in when he heard your voice. You weren't actually his girl. Well, not officially, not yet, anyway. He was working on that, yeah. He slips away from who he was talking with to make his way to you, smiling boyishly when he sees you looking back up at him.

"Made room for me? Ma, you didn't have to," he runs a hand through his hair, gently plonking himself down beside you. He's careful not to touch you in case you don't want him to. However judging from the way you immediately invade his space, he happily brings your body into his own, a coy grin on his lips.

"Look at you," he says breathlessly, in total awe of you and how gorgeous you are.

He's down bad.