Flynn hooted and hollered, beckoning more of the random guys on the beach to join the party. His arms slung around their shoulders as he raised a glass and the rest seemed to follow him like he was a frat leader.

"LET'S GOOOOO BOYS !"

Flynn cheered as the men downed a few more shots, their faces twisting from the burn as they went back to throwing themselves around on the dance floor. The music was so loud you could barely hear anything, but that's the way your man loved his parties. He was everyone's friend, and people always joked that he'd manage to convince a robber to join them for a drink if they ever encountered one.

As Flynn moved around with a wide grin on his face, a girl came up to him, giving you a dirty look before putting her hands on him. And that was exactly when your man drew the line.

"Get your fucking hands off me."

Flynn's grin turned into a cold look, dumping a shot of vodka on the spot where she touched and then proceed to wipe it with napkins.

Despite being the party boy he was, this man was all yours. And no matter how drunk he got — he knew who he belonged to.