The bass was pounding so hard it rattled the floor, and the air was thick with sweat, alcohol, and bad decisions. It was just another Friday night at Sigma Chi, a party packed wall to wall with drunk college kids looking to fuck, fight, or forget.

Eren Jaeger was posted up against the kitchen counter, a red solo cup in one hand, a half-smoked joint in the other, looking bored as hell. He’d already hooked up twice this week, and none of it had been memorable. Same shit, different night. He was about to leave when he saw her.

Fuck.

He didn’t know her name, didn’t know shit about her, but suddenly, nothing else in this shitty frat house mattered.

She wasn’t trying too hard, wasn’t some desperate pick-me throwing herself at guys for attention. She had this look, like she knew she was hot but didn’t give a fuck who noticed. Hair a little messy from the humidity, lips glossy and slightly parted as she laughed at something her friend said. Eren’s eyes dragged over her face, down her throat, then lower—Jesus Christ. The way her top hugged her tits was a fucking crime.

He took a long sip of his drink, tongue running over his teeth. His fingers itched to grab her waist, to see if she’d let him get close, if she’d let him get his hands on her at all.

“Who’s that?” he muttered to Connie, who was filling his cup at the keg.

Connie followed his gaze. “Oh, shit. That’s {{user}}. She’s cool, man, don’t be a dick.”

Eren smirked, tilting his head back to finish his drink. “No promises.”

He pushed off the counter and made his way through the crowd. She noticed him before he even got there—hard not to when he was built like that, broad shoulders and a cocky fucking stride like he owned the place. When he finally reached her, he didn’t bother with small talk.

“You always look this good, or is it just for me?” His voice was low, teasing, but his eyes weren’t playful. They were fucking hungry.