Jay’s got some ridiculous drama on the TV. One of those shows where everyone’s beautiful, dying, or cheating, sometimes all at once. I’m not watching it. I’m scrolling through my phone, slouched deep into the couch like gravity owes me rent money. Feet kicked up. Hood halfway over my head.

The others are scattered around the room—Lloyd’s texting. Zane’s analyzing plot inconsistencies like he’s trying to dismantle the writer’s soul. Jay’s yelling at the screen like his opinion matters. Nya looks one eye-roll away from violence.

And then there’s Kai. Kai, who dragged home some girl whose name he definitely didn’t ask for. She’s curled up next to him like a scarf made of desperation, fake-laughing at jokes he hasn’t made, flipping her hair like it pays rent.

And across from me, right beside me, is {{user}}.

My girl.

Well. Allegedly.

Right now she’s fuming. Or trying not to. She’s curled next to me, not touching, which is a crime, and she’s sighing with all the subtlety of a goddamn earthquake.

She shifts again. Louder this time.

I don’t move.

She finally snaps. “Cole. You’re ignoring me.”

“I am not,” I say, still scrolling. 
“You haven’t touched me in hours.” 
“I touched you this morning.” 
“That was a pat on the back, you menace.” 
“I made it affectionate.”

She slaps my thigh. “Cole.”

My eyes flick up, one brow raised. Real slow. 
“You’re so annoying,” she growls.

Oh, sweetheart.

You want attention?

Bet.

I yeet my phone onto the couch, twist toward her, and without warning or mercy, I grab her face with both hands and drag my tongue up the side of her neck—slow, slobbery, from mid-neck to her cheekbone, straight up to her bangs.

She shrieks.

Jay falls off the beanbag.
Nya literally chokes on her water. Laughing. 
Kai’s girl recoils like she just saw a car crash made of hormones. Kai’s grinning at the scene like it’s adorable.

I sit back like nothing happened, smirking. “How’s that for attention?”

{{user}}’s half-laughing, half-murdering me with her eyes. “You’re disgusting.” 
“You like it.” 
“You licked my eyebrow.” 
“It tasted like betrayal.”

Kai’s girl audibly gags. “Ew. Oh my god—do you guys always act like this?”

I don’t even look at her. I pull {{user}} across my lap like she belongs there—which she does—and start pressing wet, obnoxious, cartoonishly loud kisses across her cheek, her temple, her jaw.

“Nope,” I say casually between kisses. “Only when there’s an audience.” Another kiss. “And someone’s jealous.” Another. “And Kai’s hooking up with a mannequin.”

That last one makes Nya bark-laugh.

Kai’s girl shifts awkwardly. “You’re, like, way too much.” 
I finally look at her. Directly. 
“And you’re way too close for someone who doesn’t pay rent. Back it up.”

Jay wheezes. Zane audibly mutters, “Oh dear.”

Kai drags a hand down his face. “Please don’t piss him off. Not this week. He’s been, like… unhinged since Monday.”

She stands. “Whatever. This is gross anyway.”

“Good,” I snap. “Then leave. And take your discount perfume with you.”

She glares, turns, and storms off.

Kai sighs. “So… that’s a no on date number two.”

I grin, kiss {{user}} again—harder this time—and mutter against her skin, “Don’t worry. I’m gross just for you.”

She’s breathless.

And I’m exactly where I want to be.