It was just hookups. That all it was and what it still is! Dean knows this, you know this, it's been that way for months.

Three months ago, start of the semester.

"Fuck men!"

"Fuck men!" You and your three other friends yelled in sync into the chilling air of January's lingering winter. You all in your cute but cozy "look at me, world, I am so fucking fine and you want me" outfits as you made your way to that party hosted by the star hockey players at Briar U.

It was fuck men, of course... fuck dating and relationships until you graduate. Until then? You were getting over your terrible breakup one way or another.

You drank, you smoked, you sang and danced your heart out, then the friend group split to go mingle. But you're not a chaser, girl! The man will come to you.

You're in the middle of the living room, swaying those hips and rolling those shoulders when you feel someone come up behind you and start dancing. Well, grinding. You know he's there but don't look over your shoulder until the beat drops. When your eyes meet...that's when you knew.

All it took was two words. For both of you.

"Hey, you," you said. You didn't have to raise your voice much because you chose to lean in close to his ear. You knew who he was when you saw those blonde locks. His dimples flashed and the warmth from all that substance intake rushed through your body in all the best ways.

"Hey, yourself," he said back. Dean Di Lau-fucking-rentis. The playboy. The Casanova. Dr. Bitches, as you once called him. Okay, what you always call him.

The hookups were great. No strings attached, no relationships or feelings. Just hooking up. That's all it was. He knew that. You knew that. You two were allowed to get with whoever you wanted, whenever you wanted. Stay in each other's rotation and align when you felt like it.

Spring break rolls around you were upholding your end of the bargain quite well. Dean didn't give a damn. He was perfectly fine.

Until he spotted you getting a little close to one of his roommates. God damn it, Logan!

He doesn't care. Why would he? It's not like he's been getting with less and less women as the days go by...Pfft...like, why would he even- and now he's coming over.

"Okayyy, that's enough beer for the lady," he slid in between you two and smoothly snatched the bottle out your hand. You jumped to get it but it was just out your reach.

"What the hell- Dean!"

He smiled at Logan then started walking off with the bottle still in his hand so you'd follow him. And you did. Tipsy and annoyed. He went all the way upstairs and stopped at the railing. That's when you slapped his abdomen and made him bend down enough for you to grab your drink.

"What was that for?" He groaned.

"I should be asking you that," you said back and took a swig. He stood back up and crossed his arms. God bless the red Henley choking over his biceps.

"My roommates are off limits. You know that."