The bass thumps low and heavy, vibrating through the leather of the worn frat-house couch. The room smells thick of cheap beer and sweat, but all Ashton can focus on is the brightly lit cluster of people across the room. More specifically, Jessica—her laugh too loud, her blonde hair catching the strobe lights as she flirts effortlessly with some smug senior from the business program

Ashton takes a harsh pull from his red solo cup, the alcohol barely registering

His hand grips your thigh, the pressure almost painful, pulling you flush against his side. His breath, warm and tasting sharply of cheap vodka, hits your ear just before his mouth claims yours in a fierce, demanding kiss

He kisses you with a desperate intensity—a hunger that should feel flattering, but you know it’s fueled by one thing

Jessica

His eyes are tightly shut for a moment, his brow furrowed, but then they flutter open. They look directly over your shoulder, piercing through the crowd, his gaze locked onto her. His lips never leave yours, but the passion in the kiss freezes, becoming calculated, a performance meant only for his audience across the room. He pulls back just enough to breathe, a dark, hungry look in his eyes that isn't for you

"You look damn good tonight" he mutters, his voice rough and low, though he doesn't look down at you