That damn skirt.

Koa was 100% sure that you knew exactly what you were doing. And it was driving him up a wall. The nerve of you. It was red, short, and currently fueling a million fantasies in his mind.

You were sitting across from him in the student lounge, laughing with your friends like you hadn't spent the better part of the previous week getting fucked in his bed. And, of course, everyone loved you. You were just as popular as he was, surrounded by people wherever you went, effortlessly commanding attention without even seeming to notice it. Koa hated how easily you fit into his social circle, hated how his friends had started treating you like one of them, and absolutely hated the way his eyes kept drifting back to you despite himself.

Every time you crossed your legs, adjusted your skirt, or leaned forward to laugh at something someone said, his jaw tightened. He tried to focus on the conversation around him, thumb absently rubbing over the silver chain at his throat, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Dude, are you even listening?" one of his friends asked. Koa blinked and looked over.

"Obviously."

"What did I just say?"

Koa paused. "...something stupid."

By the time everyone decided to head back before splitting up for the night, Koa was already irritated beyond reason. You walked ahead with two of your friends, still chatting animatedly, while Koa followed behind with the others.

Eventually, the group reached the hallway outside the lecture halls, and everyone began splitting off in different directions. Someone remembered they had left a notebook inside one of the rooms. Another friend offered to grab it, and the rest started arguing over where they should go afterward. You were standing a few feet away, scrolling through your phone, completely oblivious to the storm brewing behind you. Koa stared for another moment before making a decision he would probably regret later.

"Come here." He grumbled, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along to an empty lecture hall. Thankfully for him, no one seemed to notice your disappearance, too immersed in their own conversations, and if they did, they knew to mind their business.

He pushed open the lecture hall door and pulled you inside, letting it swing shut behind you. The noise from the hallway immediately became muffled, leaving the enormous room quiet.

"I can't fucking stand you." Koa groaned, running his hand down his face, feeling absolutely exasperated at the stirring going on beneath his sweat pants.

"Hike that skirt up and put your hands on the desk."

Koa knew he shouldn't be here.

It was past 3am, he should be in his own bed. He should be fast asleep. He had absolutely no excuse for being here, and the worst part was that he knew it. He'd known it the moment he'd gotten out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, grabbed his keys, and driven across campus without giving himself enough time to think about what he was doing.

He could have turned around at any point. He could have gone home. Instead, he'd ended up here, just like he always did, letting some stupid combination of irritation, attraction, and whatever the hell this thing between them was drag him right back to you.

"Stay still, you're shaking like a fucking leaf." He growled before attaching his lips back to your pussy.

Koa's tongue joined the mix, slipping between your folds and dragging upwards until he reached your clit. The tip of his tongue swirled around the sensitive nub before he sucked it into his mouth, his lips closing around your pearl.

"Mmm..." He hummed, sucking harshly before pulling away again. Koa pressed a kiss to your inner thigh before biting down on the skin, leaving a mark that would darken by tomorrow. His mouth returned to your cunt, tongue lapping at your slit like he was a damn dog.

Koa felt your thighs tighten around his head. He clicked his tongue in annoyance before using his hands to push them apart, keeping you open for his convenience. Koa dove back in, peppering kisses on your clit to tease you.

He wanted you loud, he wanted you begging.

Koa moved one of his hands, trailing it up your thigh while his other hand remained where it was, keeping you spread for him. He used his finger to trace your folds, circling around your hole without pushing in. His tongue meanwhile spiraled around your clit, he kept the intensity deliberately restrained, careful not to let you get too close to the edge.

"What's wrong?" He chuckled, his words slightly muffled. "Wanna cum?"

Koa noticed the hoodie before he noticed anything else.

It was a little past eleven in the morning, and he was halfway through a conversation with one of his friends outside the business building when his attention drifted across the crowded campus courtyard. He'd been having a perfectly ordinary morning, all things considered.

He'd even been in a decent mood, which was a fucking miracle considering he'd slept terribly the night before. And then he saw you. More specifically, he saw the oversized charcoal-gray hoodie hanging off your shoulders, the sleeves pulled down past your wrists, the familiar embroidered logo on the chest, and the little tear near the pocket that he'd been meaning to get repaired for months. His hoodie. His favorite hoodie.

"Dude." His friend waved a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Carter. You alive over there?"

No. There was no fucking way. He knew that hoodie. He knew the exact shade of gray, the faded stitching around the cuffs, the ridiculously soft lining he'd refused to replace despite his friends telling him it was practically falling apart. He'd worn it to bed, to the gym, on late-night grocery runs, and on every occasion when he couldn't be bothered to put together a proper outfit. It was practically sacred property. And now you were walking around campus in it like you'd personally purchased it.

His friend's gaze followed his, and the second the realization clicked, a slow, delighted grin spread across the bastard's face.

"Isn't that your hoodie?"

"Don't start."

"That's literally your hoodie."

Koa finally tore his eyes away from you long enough to shoot his friend a murderous look. "Wow. Incredible observation. You should consider a career in detective work."

His friend laughed, entirely unfazed. "How the hell did she get it?"

"How the hell should I know?"

It was a lie. A big fat lie. You were at his apartment last night.

Koa shoved his phone into his pocket and started across the courtyard, ignoring his friend's obnoxious laughter behind him. He had no intention of making a scene, naturally. He was a reasonable person. A mature adult. A twenty-one-year-old college student with absolutely no reason to march across campus over a hoodie.

As soon as he approached you, he got in your face. He let his hand remain extended between you, wiggling his fingers impatiently.

"Come on. Hand it over, thief."

The party had been Koa's idea, which meant he was naturally acting like he owned the entire fucking house.

He was sprawled across the corner of a crowded living room, one arm thrown over the back of the couch, a half-empty can of soda balanced between his fingers while his friends argued over the music. The house was packed with college students, the air thick with perfume, cheap cologne, and the mixed scent of whatever someone had spilled near the kitchen.

He'd spent most of the evening bouncing between conversations, collecting laughs with his easy charm, and winning a painfully unnecessary game of beer pong despite insisting that he wasn't even trying.

His black mullet fell messily around his face, the sleeves of his fitted black shirt pushed up to his forearms, his silver chain glinting whenever he moved. He looked entirely too pleased with himself, especially when another one of his friends accused him of cheating at the last game. Koa only grinned, leaning back against the couch as though the accusation were a personal compliment.

"Skill issue," he replied lazily. "You can keep crying about it, though. It's entertaining."

"You're such an asshole."

"And yet you keep inviting me places. Starting to think you're obsessed with me, man."

His friend flipped him off, and Koa laughed, reaching for his phone to check the time. That was when he spotted you across the room.

Of course you were here. Because apparently the universe had decided that Koa wasn't allowed to enjoy a single fucking evening without you appearing somewhere in his peripheral vision.

Then someone suggested playing a game.

It started innocently enough. A few people crowded into the living room, someone produced a deck of cards, and within minutes the group had devolved into the usual chaos of dares, accusations, and people loudly insisting they weren't embarrassed when they absolutely were. Koa had no intention of participating. He had an impeccable reputation to maintain, after all, and he wasn't about to let a bunch of drunk college students dictate his evening. Unfortunately, his friends knew him far too well to let him sit out.

"Come on, KC," one of them called. "Don't tell me you're scared."

He settled onto the couch with the others, stretching his legs out comfortably while someone explained the rules. Truth or dare, with a few variations.

"Koa," his friend announced, wearing a smile that immediately made him suspicious. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare. Obviously."

The grin on his friend's face widened.

"I dare you to kiss the person in this room you find the most attractive."

The chanting started almost immediately. A few people shouted out names, some of them girls Koa had flirted with earlier in the evening. He waved them off with an exaggeratedly bored expression.

The problem was that, when Koa finally looked across the circle at you, his brain seemed to forget how to perform even the simplest fucking task.

"Fuck."

Koa Carter was having a perfectly good evening.

Well, as perfectly good as an evening could be when half his friend group had collectively decided that his apartment was the designated pregame location, someone had spilled soda on his coffee table, and Haris Miller had spent the last forty minutes talking about a girl Koa had absolutely no interest in discussing.

"Hey, come here for a second," Haris said, looking in your direction. "I wanna ask you something."

Koa didn't look up immediately. He took another sip of his drink, listening with only half an ear as the surrounding conversation continued. It wasn't until Haris moved away from the group with you that Koa's attention finally shifted.

His gaze followed the two of you across the room, his expression remaining perfectly neutral as he watched Haris lead you toward a quieter corner near the kitchen. There was nothing particularly unusual about it. Haris talked to everyone. Haris was friendly, approachable, and annoyingly good at making people feel comfortable around him. Unfortunately, Koa was also aware of the fact that Haris had been harboring a not-so-subtle crush on you for weeks.

"What's Miller doing?" one of his friends asked, settling into the armchair beside him.

Koa shrugged, his eyes still fixed on the other side of the room. "How the fuck should I know?"

"Looks like he's asking her out."

Koa turned away, jaw tightening as he forced himself to pay attention to the conversation happening beside him. It was fine. Completely fine. Haris could ask you out if he wanted. You could say yes if you wanted. Koa didn't own you, wasn't dating you, and certainly hadn't spent the better part of the last several months finding increasingly ridiculous excuses to have you alone in his apartment. Whatever happened between you was none of his business. He had no claim over your time, your attention, or your romantic life. He understood that perfectly well. In fact, he understood it so well that he was now actively trying to convince himself that the sudden urge to march across the room and interrupt Haris was rooted in something entirely reasonable.

Perhaps he needed to ask you something important. Perhaps Haris was about to say something so embarrassing that Koa would be doing him a favor by intervening. Perhaps the house was on fire and nobody had noticed. Any explanation would do, really, as long as he didn't have to acknowledge the far more obvious possibility that the thought of Haris taking you on a date was making him want to put his fist through a wall.

Koa couldn't hear what he was saying over the music, but he didn't need to. He knew that expression. He'd seen Haris practice it in the mirror before a party once, an incident Koa had promised never to let him live down.

"You're going over there, aren't you?" his friend asked.

Koa stared at him for another second before standing up.

"There you are, sweetheart." Koa's voice slipped effortlessly into the conversation, warm with a familiarity that was just a little too deliberate. He stopped beside you, close enough to make his presence impossible to ignore, and glanced at Haris with an expression of exaggerated surprise. "Miller. Didn't realize you were holding private consultations over here. Should I be worried? Is this some sort of intervention? Because if we're finally discussing your personality, I'd like to be present for that."

Haris stared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. "Can you fuck off for five minutes, KC?"

"Wow. Hostile." Koa pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense.

Haris's expression changed.

It was subtle, but Koa noticed immediately. The brief flicker of surprise, the way Haris glanced toward you and then back at him, the slight narrowing of his eyes as he realized that Koa might know exactly what was happening. For a moment, the two men simply stared at each other, a silent conversation passing between them that neither was particularly interested in having out loud. Then Haris straightened, folding his arms across his chest.

"Actually," Haris said slowly, "I was asking her out."

Koa's smile didn't move.

"Yeah? Good for you, man." He clapped Haris on the shoulder with enough enthusiasm to make the gesture feel suspiciously aggressive. "About time you grew a pair. I was starting to think you'd spend the rest of your life pining from across the room like some tragic Victorian widow."

Haris shook his head, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Then, to Koa's immense irritation, he turned his attention back toward you, his expression softening into the easy smile he'd been wearing before the interruption. "Anyway, what I was trying to ask before someone decided to make himself the center of attention..." He paused, briefly shooting Koa a pointed look. "Would you want to go out with me sometime? Just the two of us. Dinner, maybe. There's this place I've been wanting to try, and I thought it'd be nice to go with someone I actually enjoy spending time with."

"Well," Koa said, his voice light enough to sound casual, "look at you. Dinner and everything. Should I start shopping for a wedding suit, or are we taking this one step at a time?"

Haris gave him a warning look. "Can you let her answer?"

"By all means." Koa raised both hands in surrender, though the grin on his face only grew more infuriating. "I'm not stopping anyone. I'm a huge supporter of romance. Love, happiness, all that nauseating shit."

"You're the least romantic person I've ever met."

"That's because you haven't seen me in action."

Haris blinked. Koa blinked. Somewhere behind them, one of their friends made a strangled noise that sounded suspiciously like someone trying not to laugh. Koa recovered first, naturally, straightening his posture and offering Haris a look of practiced boredom.

"You're an idiot," Haris muttered.

"And yet you love me."

"I tolerate you."

"Same thing."

Koa glanced toward you again, and for a moment, the teasing expression on his face shifted into something more intent. He could feel Haris watching him, probably beginning to put together pieces of a puzzle that Koa had been very careful to keep scattered. That was fine. Haris could suspect whatever he wanted. Koa wasn't about to confess to anything, least of all the fact that he was currently standing in a kitchen arguing with his friend because the idea of you going on a date with someone else was making him irrationally competitive.

Koa shifted his weight, the silver chain between his fingers for a brief second before he let it fall back against his chest.

"Tell you what, sweetheart." His voice lowered slightly, turning almost conversational despite Haris standing right beside him. "If you're looking for someone to show you a good time, I can make a few suggestions. Places that don't serve overpriced food on plates the size of a fucking coaster. Activities that don't involve sitting across from someone while they ask you what your major is for the seventh time."

Haris scoffed. "I know her major."

"Congratulations. You want a medal?"

"I know her favorite food, too."

Koa's smile faltered for a fraction of a second.

Haris noticed.

"Oh, that's interesting," Haris continued, a slow grin spreading across his face. "You know what? Since you're suddenly such an expert on what she likes, why don't you tell me what her favorite food is?"

Koa stared at him.

He knew. Of course he knew. He knew what you liked ordering when you were hungry but couldn't decide what you wanted, what you stole off his plate despite insisting you didn't want any, and what you reached for first whenever you were at his apartment. He knew more trivial details about you than any person who supposedly couldn't stand you had a right to know. The problem was that admitting any of this would be equivalent to handing Haris a loaded weapon and politely asking him to shoot him with it.

"That's a stupid question."

Haris's grin widened. "Because you don't know?"

"Because I'm not participating in your little interview, Miller. This isn't a fucking game show."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, knowing someone's favorite food doesn't make you compatible. It makes you capable of reading a menu."

Haris laughed, shaking his head before turning his attention back toward you. He looked far too pleased with himself, and Koa was beginning to regret every decision that had led him to this kitchen. He should have stayed on the couch. He should have minded his own business. He should have remembered that the only thing more dangerous than letting Haris ask you out was giving Haris even the slightest indication that Koa cared whether you said yes.

Unfortunately, he was already here, and backing down now would mean admitting that he'd lost some imaginary competition he hadn't even acknowledged entering.

"So," Koa continued, his green eyes glinting with amusement, "you've got options. Miller here is offering dinner, and I'm offering considerably better company." He paused, looking Haris up and down with exaggerated consideration. "Although, if you do choose him, I suppose I could lend him a decent shirt. Help the poor bastard out."

The two men continued to bicker in front of you, not realizing how fucking stupid they both looked.

ᅠ