I lifted my beer to my lips, ready to take a slow sip, when James elbowed me in the ribs.
Hard.
I barely stopped myself from spilling the damn drink all over my lap. "What the hell, man?" I muttered, scowling at him.
"That's him," he muttered, nodding toward the far end of the bar. "The pretty boy everybody's been talking about."
I paused, my beer hovering midway to my mouth. That got my attention.
Everybody had been running their mouths about some new student—whispers about how he didn’t talk to anyone, how he always sat alone, how he looked like he belonged on a damn magazine cover instead of walking these shitty college halls like the rest of us. I hadn’t seen him yet, but curiosity had been gnawing at me. Now, I finally had the chance.
Following James’s gaze, I spotted him instantly.
And Damn.
The rumors weren’t exaggerating.
He was pretty. No, scratch that—he was fucking beautiful. The kind of good looks that made people stare without realizing they were staring. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, effortlessly messy but in a way that seemed intentional. His long lashes cast soft shadows on his cheeks as he stared down at his drink, uninterested in the world around him.
"What’s his name?" I asked, still watching him.
James scoffed. "Who the hell knows? Kid doesn’t talk to anybody. Rude motherfucker."
I snorted. Just because the guy didn’t speak to them didn’t mean he wouldn’t speak to me.
I wasn’t just anybody.
So, I drained the rest of my beer, set the empty bottle down with a soft clink, and pushed myself to my feet.
James gave me a look. "Don’t embarrass yourself, Captain."
"Fuck off."
I wasn’t about to embarrass myself. I was gonna do what nobody else had managed to do—get the so-called pretty boy to talk.
I crossed the bar, taking my time. The place wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t exactly quiet either. Laughter and conversation buzzed around us, the scent of beer and cheap cologne thick in the air. But as I approached his table, all of that faded into the background.
Up close, he was even better-looking.
His skin was smooth, his posture relaxed, one long-fingered hand wrapped loosely around his glass.
I stopped in front of him.
"Hey."
Nothing.
He didn't even spare me a glance. Just kept drinking like I wasn’t standing right there.
My eyebrow twitched.
I leaned in a little. "Hey. You deaf, or just an asshole?"
Still nothing.
James and the others chuckled from behind me, and my irritation flared hotter.
I didn’t like being ignored, and I sure as hell didn’t like being laughed at.
So, I slammed my palm down on the table.
Hard.
The sudden impact made his drink tip over, spilling across the wooden surface. The glass wobbled before rolling onto its side, sending a slow stream of liquid toward the edge.
And just like that, the bar fell silent.
All eyes were on us.
Greg—because, yeah, I’d decided I was gonna call him something, even if I had to make up the name myself—finally lifted his gaze.
And fuck.
His eyes were even more pretty up close. A piercing, ice-cold green that seemed to look straight through me.
"Hey, chill, man. Don’t mind him.” One of my friends tried to defuse the situation but I barely heard him.
My attention was locked on Greg.
"What’s your fucking name?" I asked, voice steady.
For a second, he just stared at me.
Then, in a slow motion, he reached for a napkin and wiped the spill off his hand. "Andrew Parker."
Andrew Parker.
I scoffed. "Yeah? You lose your damn head or something? Think you’re special just ’cause you’re pretty?"
Andrew tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was some kind of mildly interesting specimen under a microscope. Then—
He scoffed.
The motherfucker fucking scoffed.
My fingers curled into fists.
James clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Dude, he told you his name. Let’s just go."
I clenched my jaw so hard it felt like my teeth were gonna crack.
I didn’t even know what pissed me off more—the fact that he barely acknowledged me or the way he just sat there, completely unfazed, like I was nothing but background noise.
Fuck this.
Without another word, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the bar, shoving past a couple of drunk assholes near the entrance. The cool night air hit me as I stepped outside, but it didn’t do shit to cool my temper.
I needed to get the hell out of here.
My car was parked at the far end of the lot, away from the clusters of other vehicles. I stalked toward it, my boots scraping against the gravel. My hands were still clenched, and my breathing was just a little too sharp.
Goddamn it.
I yanked open the driver’s side door, slid in, and slammed it shut behind me. The silence inside the car was immediate, wrapping around me like a suffocating blanket as I jammed the key into the ignition and twisted.
The engine rumbled to life, but I didn’t pull out of the lot just yet. Instead, I sat there, gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white.
That whole interaction replayed in my head like a bad fucking movie.
I walked up to him. I gave him the courtesy of my attention. And how did he respond? By brushing me off like I was some random nobody. And that—that—was the part I couldn’t let go of.
Because, see, I wasn’t just some dude you ignored.
I wasn’t some background extra in someone else’s life—I was the goddamn main character.
And Andrew Parker?
He had just looked me in the eye, sized me up, and decided I wasn’t worth his time.
That cocky little—
I slammed my hand against the steering wheel.
The horn blared, loud and sharp in the quiet parking lot.
I ran a hand through my hair, yanked my seatbelt on, and finally put the car into reverse. The tires crunched against the gravel as I backed out of my spot, pulling onto the road leading away from the bar.
The town wasn’t big. A few bars, a couple of shitty diners, some run-down convenience stores, and a college that somehow made the place seem more alive than it really was. The roads were mostly empty this late, the occasional streetlamp flickering as I sped past.
My phone buzzed in the cupholder beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I glanced down.
James.
I sighed and picked it up, answering without bothering to put it on speaker.
"What?"
"You good, man?" James asked, amusement clear in his voice. "You stormed out of there like you were about to throw hands."
I exhaled through my nose, keeping my eyes on the road. "I’m fine."
James snickered. "Sure you are. You should’ve seen your face when Pretty Boy ignored you. Shit was hilarious."
I rolled my eyes. "Shut the hell up."
"Nah, man, I get it," James continued, still laughing. "You’re not used to people brushing you off like that. It’s gotta sting a little."
I gritted my teeth. "I said I’m fine."
"Uh-huh."
I could hear the smirk in his voice.
Fucking bastard.
I pressed harder on the gas, the car picking up speed as I reached the outskirts of town.
James hummed. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, he’s probably just a stuck-up asshole. Not worth your time."
I didn’t answer.
Because the thing was…
I wasn’t so sure about that.
"James," I said, voice tight."Yeah?""Shut the fuck up."He burst out laughing. Actually laughing. Like this was the funniest shit in the world.I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. My patience was already stretched thin, and James acting like this was some kind of joke wasn’t helping."You’re real fucking annoying, you know that?" I muttered."Yeah, yeah, I love you too, man," he said, still amused. "So what now? You gonna sulk about this all night? Or—wait—" He gasped dramatically. "Don’t tell me you’re obsessed with Pretty Boy now."I nearly threw my damn phone out the window."I’m not fucking obsessed," I snapped."Uh-huh. You sure? ’Cause you stormed out of the bar like a lover scorned.""James.""Like a princess whose hand was refused—"I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat.Fucking asshole.I focused on the road, but irritation burned under my skin like a low flame. My mood had already been shit when I left the bar, but somehow, James had made it worse. No
My thumb hovered over the screen for a split second, and before I could talk myself out of it, I sent him a message. A simple 'Hi'. Casual. No big deal but the second I did—Ding.A reply popped up.Anonymous69: Hey.I froze.The fuck?I stared at my screen like it had just grown legs and started dancing. There was no way. No fucking way.Anonymous69—the Anonymous69—replied me!My heart kicked up, a weird mix of excitement and panic slamming into my chest.Was this real? Did I hit my head at some point tonight? Was I hallucinating?I needed to sit down. No— I needed to move.With my phone still clutched in my hand, I booked it down the hall, shoving my apartment key into the lock with shaking fingers. The door banged open, and I stepped inside, slamming it shut behind me like I was escaping a fucking serial killer instead of a hot-ass OnlyFans creator sending me a message.“Holy shit,” I breathed, my back against the door.My phone buzzed again, and I nearly dropped it.I needed a sec
This day was supposed to be perfect.I was supposed to wake up, hit the gym, maybe grab a coffee, and then, the best part—meet up with Anonymous69. In the flesh. Finally.Instead, here I was, standing outside my apartment, staring down at a sniveling mess of a person I really didn’t have time for."Please," he begged, voice cracking like a cheap phone screen. "I swear it didn’t mean anything!"I groaned, dragging a hand through my hair. "Why today of all fucking days?"Like, seriously. I hadn’t heard from him in months, and now, the second I had somewhere to be, he decided to pop up like a goddamn fungus?He clutched my wrist, looking up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I miss you. I swear I’ll do anything, just—just give me another chance. I’ll make it up to you."I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nose. My patience was hanging by a fucking thread.I pried his fingers off me one by one, shaking my head. "Listen, dipshit." My voice was sharp, cutting through his pathetic
By the time I finally pulled up to the hotel, I was two seconds away from committing a felony.Yes, you heard me.Two fucking seconds!Traffic had drained every ounce of patience I had left, and if one more dumbass had cut me off on the road, I might’ve just abandoned my car in the middle of the street and walked the rest of the way.But I was here now.I parked, killed the engine, and took a deep breath before stepping out.The hotel was fancy—way fancier than anywhere I usually went. Glass doors, gold trim, sleek lighting. The kind of place that smelled like money.I adjusted my jacket and walked inside, the cool air-conditioning a blessed relief after the nightmare that was my drive.The lobby was all polished marble and overpriced modern art. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting warm light over the check-in desk, where a well-dressed receptionist was typing away at a computer.I strode up, planting my hands on the counter. "Hey, I’m here to check in. Should be a reserv
I shoved Andrew Parker away. "One shoot," I bit out. My pulse was already pounding, my temper hanging by a thread. "That’s it."Andrew barely stumbled, his stupid towel staying perfectly in place like it was glued to his hips. He just lifted a brow, "One shoot, huh?" His lips curled to a soft smile. "Sounds fair."Fair, my ass.But whatever.I was already here.And if I was gonna humiliate myself, I might as well make some cash while doing it.Andrew turned, walking back into the hotel room, and I followed, jaw clenched so hard I thought I might crack a tooth.The suite was nice. Plush carpet, sleek furniture, soft lighting. A huge bed with crisp white sheets—practically begging to be ruined.I refused to think about that."Let’s get this over with." I said, crossing my arms.Without looking remotely phased, he ran a hand through his hair, and—of fucking course— let his towel drop to the floor like it was nothing.Jesus. Fucking. Christ.I immediately looked away, my jaw locking as I
I shoved Andrew Parker away. "One shoot," I bit out. My pulse was already pounding, my temper hanging by a thread. "That’s it."Andrew barely stumbled, his stupid towel staying perfectly in place like it was glued to his hips. He just lifted a brow, "One shoot, huh?" His lips curled to a soft smile. "Sounds fair."Fair, my ass.But whatever.I was already here.And if I was gonna humiliate myself, I might as well make some cash while doing it.Andrew turned, walking back into the hotel room, and I followed, jaw clenched so hard I thought I might crack a tooth.The suite was nice. Plush carpet, sleek furniture, soft lighting. A huge bed with crisp white sheets—practically begging to be ruined.I refused to think about that."Let’s get this over with." I said, crossing my arms.Without looking remotely phased, he ran a hand through his hair, and—of fucking course— let his towel drop to the floor like it was nothing.Jesus. Fucking. Christ.I immediately looked away, my jaw locking as I
By the time I finally pulled up to the hotel, I was two seconds away from committing a felony.Yes, you heard me.Two fucking seconds!Traffic had drained every ounce of patience I had left, and if one more dumbass had cut me off on the road, I might’ve just abandoned my car in the middle of the street and walked the rest of the way.But I was here now.I parked, killed the engine, and took a deep breath before stepping out.The hotel was fancy—way fancier than anywhere I usually went. Glass doors, gold trim, sleek lighting. The kind of place that smelled like money.I adjusted my jacket and walked inside, the cool air-conditioning a blessed relief after the nightmare that was my drive.The lobby was all polished marble and overpriced modern art. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting warm light over the check-in desk, where a well-dressed receptionist was typing away at a computer.I strode up, planting my hands on the counter. "Hey, I’m here to check in. Should be a reserv
This day was supposed to be perfect.I was supposed to wake up, hit the gym, maybe grab a coffee, and then, the best part—meet up with Anonymous69. In the flesh. Finally.Instead, here I was, standing outside my apartment, staring down at a sniveling mess of a person I really didn’t have time for."Please," he begged, voice cracking like a cheap phone screen. "I swear it didn’t mean anything!"I groaned, dragging a hand through my hair. "Why today of all fucking days?"Like, seriously. I hadn’t heard from him in months, and now, the second I had somewhere to be, he decided to pop up like a goddamn fungus?He clutched my wrist, looking up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I miss you. I swear I’ll do anything, just—just give me another chance. I’ll make it up to you."I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nose. My patience was hanging by a fucking thread.I pried his fingers off me one by one, shaking my head. "Listen, dipshit." My voice was sharp, cutting through his pathetic
My thumb hovered over the screen for a split second, and before I could talk myself out of it, I sent him a message. A simple 'Hi'. Casual. No big deal but the second I did—Ding.A reply popped up.Anonymous69: Hey.I froze.The fuck?I stared at my screen like it had just grown legs and started dancing. There was no way. No fucking way.Anonymous69—the Anonymous69—replied me!My heart kicked up, a weird mix of excitement and panic slamming into my chest.Was this real? Did I hit my head at some point tonight? Was I hallucinating?I needed to sit down. No— I needed to move.With my phone still clutched in my hand, I booked it down the hall, shoving my apartment key into the lock with shaking fingers. The door banged open, and I stepped inside, slamming it shut behind me like I was escaping a fucking serial killer instead of a hot-ass OnlyFans creator sending me a message.“Holy shit,” I breathed, my back against the door.My phone buzzed again, and I nearly dropped it.I needed a sec
"James," I said, voice tight."Yeah?""Shut the fuck up."He burst out laughing. Actually laughing. Like this was the funniest shit in the world.I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. My patience was already stretched thin, and James acting like this was some kind of joke wasn’t helping."You’re real fucking annoying, you know that?" I muttered."Yeah, yeah, I love you too, man," he said, still amused. "So what now? You gonna sulk about this all night? Or—wait—" He gasped dramatically. "Don’t tell me you’re obsessed with Pretty Boy now."I nearly threw my damn phone out the window."I’m not fucking obsessed," I snapped."Uh-huh. You sure? ’Cause you stormed out of the bar like a lover scorned.""James.""Like a princess whose hand was refused—"I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat.Fucking asshole.I focused on the road, but irritation burned under my skin like a low flame. My mood had already been shit when I left the bar, but somehow, James had made it worse. No
I lifted my beer to my lips, ready to take a slow sip, when James elbowed me in the ribs. Hard.I barely stopped myself from spilling the damn drink all over my lap. "What the hell, man?" I muttered, scowling at him."That's him," he muttered, nodding toward the far end of the bar. "The pretty boy everybody's been talking about."I paused, my beer hovering midway to my mouth. That got my attention.Everybody had been running their mouths about some new student—whispers about how he didn’t talk to anyone, how he always sat alone, how he looked like he belonged on a damn magazine cover instead of walking these shitty college halls like the rest of us. I hadn’t seen him yet, but curiosity had been gnawing at me. Now, I finally had the chance.Following James’s gaze, I spotted him instantly.And Damn. The rumors weren’t exaggerating. He was pretty. No, scratch that—he was fucking beautiful. The kind of good looks that made people stare without realizing they were staring. His dark hair