The basement of the frat house was suffocatingly warm, packed with body heat, loud bass, and flashing strobe lights.

Kai was leaning back against the kitchen doorway with a red solo cup balanced in his hand, his blonde hair falling casually into his eyes behind his wire glasses. His frat brothers were laughing and talking about the game, but Kai wasn't listening to a single word.

His dark grey eyes were locked straight across the room on you.

You looked entirely too small for this place. Soft, cute, and quiet, standing near the punch bowl in your cozy outfit while the chaotic party raged around you. Kai gritted his teeth, taking a long drink of his beer. He’d spent the last three weeks telling himself—and everyone else—that you weren't his type. He liked loud, curvy, flashy girls. He didn't do soft. He didn't do cute.

So why was he staring at you like a psycho?

Suddenly, a guy from the soccer team stepped up into your space. He leaned in way too close, laughing loudly and letting his hand slide down to rest right on your waist.

Kai’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth clicked. The plastic solo cup in his hand crushed inward under the sudden, violent grip of his fingers, beer sloshing over his knuckles.

"Woah, Sterling, chill," Dante chuckled beside him, eyeing Kai's knuckles. "If you like the cute little girl so much, go over there and claim her."

"I don't like her," Kai spat out, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He refused to walk over there. Going over there meant admitting to the whole room that he cared. It meant admitting she had him wrapped around her finger.

Instead, Kai shoved his hands deep into his flannel pockets, his gaze burning holes through the guy touching you. He took two steps forward, stopping at the edge of the kitchen counter, his voice cutting through the noise in a sharp, commanding roar that made half the room freeze.

"Hey! Touch her again and I'll make sure you leave this house on a stretcher!"

Kai had dragged you up the stairs by your wrist the second the argument downstairs broke out, locking his bedroom door shut behind the two of you and cutting off the muffled thud of the party bass below.

He backed up against the heavy wooden door, running both hands through his messy blonde hair, his breathing rough and uneven. His black flannel was unbuttoned, revealing his broad chest, and his black rose neck tattoo looked dark against his pale skin.

"You shouldn't have been down there," Kai snapped, though there was zero real anger in his voice—just pure, frustrated adrenaline. He looked down at you, taking in how small and soft you looked standing in the center of his messy room.

He took two long strides, crowding your space until his chest was towering right over you. He reached out, his long, vein-laced fingers catching you gently by the chin, forcing you to look up into his dark grey eyes.

"You're too damn cute for a place like that, sweetheart," Kai whispered, his thumb pressing lightly against your bottom lip, his voice raspy with emotion he hated feeling. "I told myself I wasn't going to touch you tonight. So why are you making it so impossible for me to stay away?"