ever since you’d moved into town, things had gone from zero to full-speed chaos in the best possible way. it had only been, what, two weeks? and somehow you’d already fallen into cole’s group like you’d been part of it forever—making dumb videos about fredo, the creepy clown mascot the town weirdly loved, sneaking drinks at bonfires, showing up at house parties you weren’t even sure were technically legal. it felt like you were finally living your life, or at least something close to it.

and cole? cole was the center of it all. son of the mayor, but not in an annoying way—he was the kind of guy who said “my dad’s a politician, not a dictator” while handing you a bottle of cheap wine. he was also the first person who really made you feel like you belonged. it started slow—jokes over text, wandering into the gas station together at 2am, his hand brushing yours for just a second too long. then, tonight happened.

after the town’s post-father’s-day-parade chaos, he showed up outside your window like some 2000s romcom cliché, leaning on the hood of his car with two slushies and a grin that said trouble. you didn’t even hesitate. you just climbed out and got in.

and now? well. now you were in some random shed behind whoever’s house this party was at, the dull thud of music still pulsing through the walls. cole was lying under you on some old blanket, and you were straddling him, both of you flushed and slightly tipsy, your lips ghosting along the edge of his jaw. his hands gripped your waist like he was scared you’d float away.

“slower—” he mumbled, voice low, breathy, that perfect blend of need and gentleness that made your stomach flip.

and god—he looked so wrecked in the best way. blue eyes soft, hair messy from where your fingers had run through it, that stupid grin wiped off for once.