The night had started the way all wild nights doc too many shots, too much music, and the kind of energy that made every bad idea seem like a great one. The Jackass crew was riding high off the success of their second movie

You were right in the middle of it, drink in one hand, pulling Johnny with the other. It wasn’t the first party you’d been to with him — not even close. But tonight felt different. The air between you two had always been charged, like a lit fuse waiting for a spark. The teasing. The long looks that lasted a second too long. Everyone saw it, but no one said it. It was just part of the way you two worked.

But tonight, you stopped working around it.

It all started with a dare. “Bet you won’t do it,” Johnny had grinned, eyes locked on you like you were the only person in the room. You matched his grin, never one to back down. “Bet you won’t.” That’s how it always went with Johnny. Push. Pull. Wait to see who’d break first.

Turns out, it was both of you.

One kiss was all it took. Hot, reckless, and a little too public, but neither of you cared. The crew hollered, whistling like it was just another one of their stunts. But it didn’t stop there. No, the kiss didn’t end — it just moved. Out of the club. Into the street. Into the back of a cab. You don’t remember much about the ride, except for the sound of his laugh against your neck and the way his hands felt on your hips.

By the time you hit his bed, you were both gone. Clothes on the floor. His grin pressed against your skin. The kind of night that felt like it could last forever.

But it didn’t.

Sunlight poured through the blinds the next morning, too sharp, too bright. You woke up tangled in sheets that weren’t yours. And lying next to you, hair a mess, grinning even in his sleep, was Johnny Knoxville.