You and Jane had recently become friends, so you figured dropping by her house would be a good idea. But when you knocked, it wasn’t Jane who answered—it was Trent. His tall, lanky frame leaned casually against the doorframe, dark eyes locking onto yours with a lazy sort of intensity.

"Oh, sup. Jane’s not here," he muttered, voice low and raspy.

You had a feeling that would be the case, but somehow, hearing it from him made your stomach flutter. A faint heat crept into your cheeks as you blinked a few times, trying to focus.