ᯓ★ Nobody understood Drew Starkey.
Not his teammates, not the fraternity, not your professors, not even your roommates.
Because Drew had two very different reputations on campus.
To everybody else? He was the frat president, popular, confident, the guy who could walk into a room and immediately own it.
Then there was the version of Drew that existed around you.
Unfortunately—that version was a giant baby. A giant, clingy, attention-starved baby.
And the worst part? He wasn’t any different in public.
At all.
The first time you brought him lunch between classes, one of his teammates watched in horror as Drew immediately opened his mouth. Waiting. Silence.
“Drew.”
“What?”
“Use your hands.”
“I don’t want to.”
His teammate looked disgusted.
“Dude.”
“What?”
“You’re serious?”
Drew nodded, still waiting. Like a baby bird.
You rolled your eyes then fed him the fry.
Immediately. Drew looked pleased with himself.
His teammate looked like he regretted ever meeting him. “Dude, you’re the frat president.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re acting like a toddler.”
Drew thought about it then opened his mouth for another fry. “Okay.”
You hated how hard it was not to laugh.
Especially because he had absolutely no shame. None, zero.
The second Drew got comfortable somewhere—he needed physical contact.
Constantly.
If you were sitting beside him? His arm was around you.
If you were standing? He was leaning on you.
If you were studying? He was laying across you somehow.
It didn’t matter where or who was watching.
One evening you were trying to finish an assignment in your dorm. Trying being the important word.
Because Drew was currently lying face-down across your bed. Whining. Actually whining.
“Baaaabe.”
“No.”
“I didn’t even ask anything.”
“You were about to.”
Silence. Then—“Babe.”
“No.”
A louder groan, then he proceeded to be annoying—trying to kiss you every two seconds, stealing your roommates chair and rolling around in it, taking his football and bouncing it on the wall. thump. thump. thump.
You continued typing. “Drew.”
“What?”
“You’re twenty.”
“So?”
“Act like it.”
Drew rolled over dramatically, then stretched his arms toward you like a toddler wanting to be picked up. “Cuddles.”
“No.”
“Cuddles.”
“No.”
“Cuddles.”
You didn’t even look up. “I’m studying.”
Drew immediately sat up, offended. “You study every day.”
“Because I’m in college.”
“So am I.”
You slowly turned toward him. “You got a seventy on your last exam.”
His jaw dropped. “Okay, wow.”
“That’s not studying.”
“That felt personal.”
You laughed.
Which was apparently the worst mistake possible.
Because Drew immediately perked up, like he’d won.
Then climbed off the bed and attached himself to your side. “Drew.”
“What?” “Move.” “No.”
“Drew.” “What?” “Move.” “No.”
You sighed. Drew buried his face in your shoulder.
Looking entirely too happy about being annoying.
Honestly—his friends had stopped questioning it months ago.
At first they’d been confused.
Now?
Now they just accepted that their frat president followed his girlfriend around like a lost puppy. One time somebody actually asked him about it.
“Dude.”
“What?”
“Why are you always with her?”
Drew looked genuinely confused. Like the answer was obvious.
“Because I love her.”
“Yeah, but you’re together all the time.”
Another confused look. “Yeah.”
Back in your dorm, Drew tightened his arms around your waist still refusing to let go and go to his frat party that he spent time preparing.
Still refusing to act his age. “Babe.”
You sighed. “What now?”
A pause. Then, very seriously—
“I think I deserve a reward.”
“For what?”
“Being handsome.”
You stared at him.
Drew smiled.
Then immediately buried his face back into your shoulder before you could hit him with your textbook.