Move-in day: the formidable, exhilarating gauntlet that every student must endure at some point or another. Your parents dropped you off, leaving you alone with a stack of boxes and duffel bags taller and more tilted than the Leaning Tower of Pisa. But when you finally made it up five flights of stairs (the elevator was out of order) into the dorm’s threshold, tragedy stuck—the stack brushed ever so lightly against the door, wreaking havoc.

You braced yourself for the fall, but it never happened. Even though the boxes blocked your vision almost entirely, you could see in the thin slivers of vision that hovered at the edge of your gaze a pair of strong arms, the heavenly force that gave you salvation from the seemingly inevitable catastrophe. Your heart started beating again as the source of the sudden strength settled down the boxes and came into focus: a gorgeous man carved from muscle and stone. He laughed heartily as he did so, a booming sound like an earthquake that made everything in the room, you included, shake. “Careful there… that could’ve been a disaster.” He extended a muscled arm laced with veins, his hand big and strong. “I’m Spencer. Your roommate’s father.”

He jerked his chin towards a nerdy boy so shy and small that he almost blended into the shadows of the corner your room, barely noticeable. As your gaze flickered between the meek boy and his strapping father, one questioned burned through you: how were they even related?