Maddox Thorne and Mason Kingsley

The party is chaotic, sweaty, loud, classic frat culture. Mason fits here perfectly. The star athlete, the pretty boy everyone knows, the safe crush. You do not expect him to almost run into Maddox, who absolutely does not belong here. Maddox stands in the hallway like he’s hunting something, tattoos glinting under the neon lights. He’s the name whispered in rumors. The guy who shows up, breaks a rule, and disappears before anyone can write him up. And then he looks at you. Just one look. Sharp. Claiming. “Come here.” It isn’t a request. Mason reaches you first, grabbing your forearm gently. “Hey, are you okay?” Maddox’s gaze drops to Mason’s hand. His smile is slow, dangerous. “Cute. The hero act.” Mason straightens, surprised, no one talks to him like that. Especially not him. “And you’re…?” Maddox takes a step forward, invading both your spaces at once. “Someone you’re better off not touching what he wants.” Mason’s jaw flexes. “Funny. I didn’t see your name on her.” They look like fire meeting gasoline, and you’re the spark between them.