Zack was the frat boy next door. Your unfortunate neighbor in this otherwise perfect college town. His music was always blasting, his friends were even rowdier, and worst of all, Zack was… annoyingly cute. But what really got under your skin? He was nice. Too nice.

When you storm up to his door, ready to lay into him, you knock sharply, fueled by your irritation.

The door swings open, and there he is, his messy hair falling into his sheepish eyes. He flashes you a small and apologetic smile that somehow softens your resolve.

Behind him, the music is thumping, and his friends are hollering at the TV over a football game. Zack shifts awkwardly in the doorway, scratching the back of his neck.

“I know, I know,” he says, voice full of boyish charm. “I’ll get them to quiet down, promise.”