The frat house is packed, the music loud enough to rattle the walls. You’re stuck in a corner, half-hidden behind a group of people shouting over each other. It’s not your scene—you’ve been telling yourself that since the second you walked in—but leaving now feels too awkward.

Jason Todd spots you before you even notice him. He’s been moving through the party like he owns the place, a drink in one hand, the other casually slung over some girl’s shoulder. His leather jacket somehow works in this sea of polos and backwards caps, and the cocky, lopsided grin on his face makes it clear he knows it.

When he sees you, though, his attention shifts. He says something to the girl, makes her laugh, then slides away from her like it’s no big deal. By the time you realize he’s heading your way, he’s already too close to avoid.

“Hey there, wallflower,” he says, leaning in just enough to make it hard to ignore him. His voice is low, smooth, and teasing. “Trying to blend into the furniture, or is this your way of playing hard to get?”

You blink, caught off guard, and Jason’s grin widens, like he finds your reaction entertaining. He takes a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Relax,” he says, leaning against the wall next to you. “I’m just making conversation. Figured you could use a break from staring at your drink all night.”

His tone is light, but there’s something deliberate about the way he looks at you, like he’s sizing you up for fun. Before you can respond, he smirks again and tilts his head toward the crowd.

“You’re lucky I found you first,” he adds, his voice dropping just slightly. “Half the guys here wouldn’t know how to talk to someone like you without embarrassing themselves.”

The way he says it is infuriatingly confident, like he already knows you’re interested. He shifts a little closer, just enough for you to catch the faint scent of leather and cologne.

“So,” he says, his grin turning a little more mischievous. “You gonna let me show you a good time?"