the bass from inside the frat house thumped against the walls, muffled but relentless, and chris had to take a breather before the noise got to his head. he wandered out to the porch, the cool night air a welcome relief against his skin, still sticky from the crush of bodies inside.

and that’s when he saw you.

you were perched on the edge of the porch steps, one leg tucked under the other, a bag of marshmallows crinkling in your lap. your cheeks were flushed, your hair slightly mussed, and the way you lazily popped a marshmallow into your mouth made it clear you were buzzed out of your mind.

he’d seen you around campus before—always surrounded by your friends, always looking like you didn’t have a care in the world. never up close, though. never like this.

he leaned against the railing, letting his gaze linger a little longer than he probably should. yeah, you were hot, like, stop him in his tracks kind of hot. not that he hadn’t noticed before. but something about seeing you like this, totally unbothered, stuffing marshmallows into your mouth at a party, had him intrigued.

“you need somethin’ to wash that down with?” he asked, his voice casual, teasing as he pulled a beer from the six-pack he’d snagged earlier.