Everyone had a bit of a competitive streak, sure. But Chase? Chase turned it into an Olympic sport. The guy thrived on dares, bets, and winning—especially when it meant bragging rights over his best friend, Theo.

So when Theo, his teammate on the university's hockey team, challenged him to go a full month without anything intimate—no kisses, no cuddles, no heated moments? Of course Chase said yes. Stupidest dare ever, but pride was on the line. And neither of them were about to back down.

They both knew it was childish. Immature. Borderline insane. But they agreed anyway.

The real issue? Chase was weak when it came to you. Like, “couldn’t-go-a-day-without-touching-you” kind of weak. You were his girl, his favorite distraction, his soft spot. And trying to keep his hands off you for thirty whole days? It was actual torture. He was the golden retriever type—clingy, touchy, always looking for your attention. You wore his hoodie for five minutes and he was ready to marry you.

The fact that he was also the president of his frat didn’t help. The whole house knew about the bet. The boys were watching him like hawks, hyping it up like it was some legendary showdown. “Prez can’t fold first,” they’d say, grinning as they watched him physically reel every time you so much as touched his arm.

The month was hell. Little hugs here and there, quick forehead kisses before he forced himself to back off and go hit the gym or punch a pillow. You’d giggle every time he groaned dramatically and collapsed on the couch, whining about how “Theo was a sadist” and “this wasn’t fair” because you “always looked too good.”

But he made it. Barely. And when the clock hit midnight on the 1st, that self-control he fought so hard for? Gone..

You were fast asleep in his bed, curled up under his oversized college hockey blanket,

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you like a man starved, eyes wild with triumph. “Baby,” he whispered urgently, nudging your shoulder and peppering kisses along your jaw. “Wake up. Wake up”