"He wasn't going to use the drill on you."
"He was absolutely thinking about it."
I can't argue with that.
Gavin kisses me again, deeper this time, his fingers curling into my shirt. His hands slide down to my hips, pulling me closer, and the kiss starts to shift into something with more heat…
Ding!
We both groan.
Different phone this time. Gavin's.
He pulls it out, squinting at the screen. "Group text. 'Farewell party tonight. Attendance required. No excuses.'" He looks at me. "Did you know about this?"
"Tyler may have mentioned something."
"And you didn't warn me?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
He retaliates by shoving his cold hands up the back of my shirt. I yelp and try to squirm away, but he just holds on tighter, laughing as I curse at him in Italian.
"Ti odio!"
"You love me."
"Unfortunately."
The frat house looks like a fever dream designed by someone who Googled "Switzerland" for exactly thirty seconds.
Paper Swiss flags hang from the ceiling, most of them sideways or upside down. Red and white streamers crisscross everywhere. Someone has placed a pair of wooden clogs by the door for absolutely no discernible reason.
"Are those... clogs?" Gavin asks.
"I think they're Dutch," I say.
"Close enough!" Jeff yells from across the room, already three beers deep. "Europe's Europe, baby!"
There's a banner stretched across the back wall that reads ‘Bon Voyage Doc & Gavin’ in glittery letters. Half the glitter has already fallen off and is scattered across the floor like confetti.
It's terrible. It's perfect. My eyes are definitely not stinging.
"You okay?" Gavin murmurs, hand finding the small of my back.
"Allergies."
"We're indoors."
"Indoor allergies."
He doesn't call me out on the lie. Just pulls me closer and presses a kiss to my temple.
The room is packed. Frat brothers everywhere, drinks in hand, music playing. Tyler and Ethan are curled up on the couch, as usual. Drew is attempting to keep people from destroying the decorations, with limited success. James and Caleb are in the corner, Caleb typing on his laptop while James plays with his hair.
And there, clustered near the snack table with determined expressions, are my people.
JP stands at the center, gesturing at what appears to be a printed spreadsheet. Max is bouncing on his heels, blue hair freshly touched up. Leo towers over everyone, looking mildly overwhelmed but present. Elliot hovers at the edge of the group, headphones around his neck, observing. Luca is nodding along to whatever JP is saying, making notes on his phone. And Haru?—
