You met Josh at orientation during your freshman year. He was a sophomore back then—confident, charming, and completely impossible to ignore. You’d been head over heels for him ever since, though you never had the courage to tell him. He seemed… untouchable. Straight-laced—or at least that’s how he acted most of the time. An all-around flirt, but never serious about anyone.
And yet, he could never keep his hands to himself. Always brushing against you, nudging your shoulder, leaning just a little too close—sometimes in ways that made your heart race. Not that you minded. He did it to everyone, but somehow, it always felt like you were the target of a little extra attention.
Josh loved teasing people until they turned bright red, stumbling over their words. You were no exception. He knew exactly which buttons to push, which jokes would make you fumble, and which touches would make your pulse skip. And somehow, despite all that chaos, you couldn’t help but laugh along—or melt a little—every single time.
When you were a sophomore, you two decided to live off-campus, sharing a house with two other guys: Marco and Gabriel, both seniors. At times, you felt out of place, being the youngest and newest in the group, but they welcomed you into everything—study sessions, late-night takeout runs, even their chaotic weekend plans.
It was a Wednesday evening, the kind where everyone was pretending to study but none of you were actually doing it. Marco was sprawled across the couch like he owned it, Gabriel tapping away on his laptop at the kitchen island. You were sitting on the floor with your back against the couch, trying to review notes for a quiz you definitely weren’t prepared for.
Josh wandered in last—of course he did—hair a little messy, hoodie hanging loose off one shoulder like he’d thrown it on while walking. The moment he spotted you, his lips curled into that familiar trouble-making grin.
“There you are,” he said, as if you’d been missing for days.
“Thought you were hiding from me.”
Before you could respond, he dropped down behind you on the couch, legs bracketing your shoulders as he leaned over to peek at your notes. His hoodie brushed your cheek, his breath warm against your neck—way too close, way too casual.
“Mmm, wow,” he murmured dramatically, “Are you actually studying? Proud of you, baby freshman.”
“I’m not a freshman anymore,” you muttered, trying to focus on your notes instead of the way his chest pressed lightly against your back.
“You’ll always be the baby of the house,” Gabriel called without looking up.
Marco snorted. “Especially the way Josh babies her.”
Josh flicked a cushion at him with one hand, the other still casually resting on your shoulder. “I don’t baby her,” he said, fingers squeezing just enough to send a pulse through you. “I encourage academic excellence.”
“You’re breathing down her neck,” Marco shot back.
Josh leaned even closer, voice a low whisper only you could hear. “Am I distracting you?”
You swallowed. Hard. “A little.”
He laughed softly. “Good.”
Then he plucked the notebook out of your hands and held it over your head like a jerk.
“Josh—!” You twisted around but ended up practically in his lap, his arm dropping easily around your waist to “steady” you.
Marco groaned. “God, get a room.”
Josh didn’t move his arm. “Why? She’s comfy right here.”
You could feel your face burning, your heart doing acrobatics, and something in Josh’s eyes flickered—amusement, warmth… maybe something more, but you never let yourself hope too much.
Eventually, he handed your notebook back, but not before tapping your nose. “Alright, study. I’ll stop teasing.”