College Affair Ch. 01

Disclaimer: All characters are over the age of 18. The story is a slow burn to build up the story but will focus more on what you all came for in the later chapters.

As soon as Kelly Anne Thompson set foot on Heritage Square, a surge of energy washed over her, realizing this would be her home for the next four years. It was mid-August, and the campus was bustling with Freshmen moving in. She gripped the handle of her rolling suitcase tightly with both hands, its wheels clattering over the uneven brick path as she headed toward her dormitory.

Brad maintained his usual position two steps in front, walking with a determined stride and impeccably straight posture, appearing more like a leader than a companion. His navy polo was neatly tucked into his khaki shorts, and his dark hair was styled so sharply it seemed almost breakable. In one hand, he held his duffel bag, and in the other, her additional box of books, his biceps flexing with every swing.

"They put you in Matthews Hall?" he said, not bothering to look back. "That's literally the opposite corner from Merchant. Who the hell organizes these assignments?"

Kelly was upset but needed to watch her tone to not make brad lash out. Brad always swore more when he was upset, but it was never quite convincing. "Maybe someone will fix the error?" she offered, keeping her tone light. "And if they don't, I mean, it's not like we're on different continents."

He stopped at the edge of the quad, right where the brick walkways intersected in a perfect plus sign, and turned to face her. She nearly ran into him. "It's a five-minute walk, minimum, and we specifically asked to be together on the forms. Why allow people to sign up for that and then.." His voice trailed off as he noticed her expression.

Kelly just shrugged, letting her suitcase thunk to a stop. "It's an adventure," she said, flashing him the smile she'd honed in high school--innocent, a little crooked, always inviting him to share the joke. "Besides, we'll spend plenty of nights at each others rooms."

Brad's lips twisted, but he didn't argue. He almost never did with her. He just set the box down and reached for his phone, swiping through emails with the practiced intensity of a CPA. "I'm calling the office when we get there. I bet it's a clerical screw-up."

She let him have his moment of indignation and tilted her head back, drinking in the campus. The quad was even bigger than it had looked online. Dozens of students lounged on the grass, some propped on elbows, others with laptops balanced on their knees, all of them radiating the kind of lazy confidence she'd always envied.

Brad was already moving again, so she hurried to keep pace. Her jeans felt tighter than when she'd tried them on at home, and the soft cotton of her tee stuck to her skin, but she liked the way the braid down her back swayed with each step. She'd picked the outfit carefully--casual enough, but not so casual that anyone would mistake her for a slob.

They reached the massive double doors of Matthews Hall, which loomed over the lawn like a red-brick castle. Brad yanked the brass handle open and held it for her, and she gave him a mock curtsy before dragging her suitcase inside. The lobby was cool and smelled faintly of lemon and industrial cleaner, with a floor that gleamed in the fluorescent light. A half-dozen students clustered near the check-in desk, some in sweats, one in a full suit, and all of them talking at once.

Brad scanned the room, zeroed in on the woman behind the counter, and strode over with the confidence of someone who'd never been told no. "Hi, we're here to check in for Thompson, Kelly Anne. There's been a mistake with her room assignment--she was supposed to be in Merchant."

The woman--mid-thirties, hair pulled into a no-nonsense bun--didn't even blink. "Name again?"

Brad repeated it, slow and clear, while Kelly hovered behind him, cheeks heating as the other students glanced over. The woman tapped at her keyboard, eyes skimming the screen. "You're in 317, Matthews. All assignments are final for this semester. Any other questions?"

Brad's hands curled on the counter, knuckles whitening. "That's not--"

"Thanks so much!" Kelly cut in, giving the woman a grateful smile before tugging Brad away by the elbow. "We really appreciate it."

He waited until they were out of earshot before muttering and cursing under his breath.

"Maybe they're just overwhelmed," Kelly said, fighting a laugh. "Imagine how many freshmen they have to wrangle this week."

Brad looked at her, his blue eyes intense and a little wounded. "I just wanted us to be together. You know."

She softened, reaching out to touch his arm--a small, secret caress just below his sleeve. "Hey. It's not like we're countries apart. We can sleep in each others rooms anytime." She let her fingers linger a second longer before pulling back. "Besides, if you really want to protest, we could stage a protest. Or maybe a hunger strike, though I think you'd last about two hours."

He snorted, the sound cracking his frustration, and slung an arm around her shoulders. "I love you even if your jokes aren't that funny."

"I love you too," she said, resting her cheek briefly against his chest before slipping out from under his arm. "Let's find my room. Maybe the view will make up for the walk."

The elevator was out of order--classic--so they climbed three flights, the narrow stairwell echoing with their footsteps and the occasional burst of laughter from behind closed doors. Kelly counted the doors as they passed: 309, 311, 313... Each one had a whiteboard tacked up, already scribbled with greetings or memes or, in one case, a desperate plea for ramen donations. When they reached 317, she hesitated, feeling the old nerves flutter in her stomach.

Brad must have sensed it, because he squeezed her shoulder, all the irritation gone from his voice. "Want to do the honors?"

She nodded and slid the key into the lock. The door opened on a flood of late-morning light, the room bigger than she'd expected, with two long windows and polished wood floors that glowed gold. Her side was empty except for the standard-issue bed and desk, but the other half already brimmed with life: string lights coiled along the ceiling, a tapestry with swirling blues and purples over the far wall, and a mountain of throw pillows in every color of the rainbow.

"Wow," Kelly said, setting her suitcase down. "My roommate's got style."

Brad grunted, making a beeline for the desk. He measured the distance to the window with his eyes, then shifted the chair two inches to the left. "Let's get your stuff unpacked," he said. "If you want to help, start with the top box."

She started with her books, stacking them neatly on the shelf above the desk. Each one felt like a little piece of home--children's lit anthologies, her worn copy of The Giving Tree, a battered spiral notebook full of lesson plans and doodles. Brad unpacked her laptop and arranged her pens by color, because of course he did.

For a moment, the room was quiet except for the distant sound of a lawnmower outside. Kelly wandered to the window and looked down at the quad, where a group of guys tossed a frisbee back and forth. One of them--tall, with impossibly broad shoulders and dark skin the color of polished mahogany--caught it single-handed and let out a whoop that rose all the way to her window.

"Who are those guys?" she wondered aloud.

Brad glanced up from her desk, following her gaze. "Football players, probably. They all get in early for training." His lips thinned, but he didn't say anything more.

Kelly watched as the tall guy lobbed the frisbee with a flick of his wrist, then caught her own reflection in the window: eyes bright, cheeks a little flushed, hair starting to frizz from the humidity. She smiled at herself, because why not.

Behind her, Brad set the last of her things in place and crossed the room, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder and together they watched the scene below. The campus felt huge, full of possibility and unknowns, but with Brad's arms around her, it was also safe.

"You sure you're okay with this?" he asked quietly.

She nodded, letting herself lean back into him. "I think I'm ready for whatever comes next."

He squeezed her tighter, as if to hold her to the promise.

*****

By the time Kelly managed to fit her last t-shirt into the top dresser drawer, the sunlight had shifted to a deeper gold, painting long rectangles across the hardwood floor of Room 317. The corner suite was even better than it had seemed at first glance--a wedge of space with high ceilings, two oversized windows, and built-in wardrobes that made the whole place feel more like a city apartment than a dorm.

Brad set her desk lamp on the surface and squinted at it, aligning its base with the edge of the desk. He adjusted the angle twice, then repositioned her chair to face the window directly. "You'll get more natural light this way," he explained, already sliding her stationary caddy and laptop into place. "Helps with productivity."

Kelly, sitting cross-legged on her new bed, smoothed the turquoise duvet she'd picked out and nodded along. "I'm sure I'll get so much done." She meant it, too, but she knew Brad heard the joke in her voice. He always did.

He turned and studied the room, frown lines etched deep. "Your side's kind of bare," he said, gesturing to the blank expanse of wall above her headboard.

She reached into a shoebox and pulled out a stack of frames. "Not for long." One by one, she propped them up: a photo of her parents, her little brother with spaghetti sauce smeared across his face, the grainy selfie she and Brad had taken on their first official date. She hesitated over that last one, running her thumb over the edge of the glass. Brad's arms were wrapped around her in the picture, his smile so wide it nearly split his face. She set it on the highest shelf, where the sun would catch it in the afternoons.

Brad watched her, silent for a second, then reached out and tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. "You're gonna be fine here," he said softly.

"I know." She looked up at him, searching for something in his eyes. "Are you?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, then shrugged. "I just wish we were in the same building, is all." He sat on the edge of her bed, making the mattress dip, and traced the pattern on her duvet with a fingertip. "But it'll be fine."

Kelly nudged him with her knee. "Maybe it's fate. We'll make more friends."

Before he could retort, the door swung open with a bang that rattled the hinges. In swept a blur of blond curls, bare shoulders, and the sharp scent of vanilla body spray. "Oh my God, my roomie is here!" the blur announced, tossing a floral tote onto the other bed. "You must be Kelly! I'm Samantha, but everyone calls me Sam."

Kelly barely had time to nod before her new roommate enveloped her in a perfumed hug, arms surprisingly strong for such a slight figure. Samantha pulled back and surveyed Kelly's outfit--tee, jeans, battered Converse--with a grin. "Love your vibe," she said. "Very 'girl next door with a secret.' Are you a Scorpio?"

"Um," Kelly said, "Pisces?"

"Even better." Samantha's voice was a rapid-fire staccato, every syllable delivered with the force of a cheer. She spun toward Brad, who had risen to his feet and was eyeing her warily. "And you must be the boyfriend. I approve. He's got the jawline for it."

Brad, caught off guard, managed a stiff, "Thanks."

Before anyone could recover, two guys appeared in the doorway, flanking Samantha like a pair of well-trained bodyguards. The first was clean-cut, with a linebacker's build and an easy, open smile. He wore a white v-neck and jeans and carried a twelve-pack of orange soda under one arm.

"Room party already?" he asked, voice booming enough to fill the entire suite.

Samantha rolled her eyes but grinned. "Aaron, meet Kelly and Brad. They're adorable."

Aaron set the soda down and gave Kelly a two-finger salute. "Pleasure." He turned to Brad and, in a move that seemed both joking and completely sincere, offered a bro handshake. Brad took it, grip firm, and the two sized each other up in the universal language of men everywhere.

The second guy lingered in the doorway, half-shadowed by the late sun. He was taller than Aaron by a head, maybe 6'3", with slightly darker skin and arms corded with muscle. His tank top clung to his chest, and his black hair was cropped so close it looked painted on. His eyes--nearly black, impossible to read--swept the room and landed on Kelly.

The moment their eyes met, a little jolt zipped down Kelly's spine, like the first sip of ice water after a run. The stranger didn't smile, not at first. He just regarded her for a beat, then nodded once, a gesture so deliberate it made her feel seen in a way that was both exhilarating and a little scary.

"See that tall guy?" Samantha gestured towards him. "That's Trace, but his teammates and friends call him Thor. I think the nickname fits him well."

Thor stepped inside, gaze never leaving Kelly. "You settling in okay?" His voice was low, soft but somehow still commanding.

"Yeah," Kelly said, aware of how breathless she sounded. "The room's great."

Brad, to his credit, recovered quickly. He stepped forward, inserting himself between Kelly and Thor with practiced ease. "I'm Brad," he said, offering his hand.

Thor shook it, his grip so firm Brad's knuckles whitened. "Nice to meet you," Thor replied, then looked back at Kelly. "If you need anything, just knock. I'm in 322, down the hall."

"Will do," she said, and for some reason it felt like a promise.

The room swelled with noise as Sam launched into a story about a frat party she went to when she came for a tour last year. Brad edged closer to Kelly, his hand settling on the small of her back--a territorial gesture she pretended not to notice.

Thor, meanwhile, circled the room with the slow, measured steps of someone casing a joint. He paused at Kelly's bookshelf, running a finger along the spines. "Children's books?" he asked, tilting his head.

She nodded, cheeks heating. "I want to teach, eventually."

He pulled out The Giving Tree and flipped it open to a random page. "Classic. I always felt bad for the tree, though."

Kelly smiled, surprised. "Me too. Most people say the boy's the hero."

Thor looked at her, something almost like amusement flickering in his eyes. "Most people are wrong." He slid the book back into place, then turned his attention to the rest of the room.

Sam was on her bed, legs folded under her, texting at lightning speed while carrying on a conversation with Aaron. Brad had shifted fully into defense mode, arms crossed and jaw tight, never quite letting Thor out of his line of sight.

Thor caught her looking and, just for a second, let a smile slip. It was small but real, and it made her heart stutter.

Sam's phone chimed and she whooped. "First floor's having a mixer in a few hours. We're going, right?"

Aaron pumped his fist, and even Thor nodded, eyes still fixed on Kelly. She glanced at Brad, who looked like he'd just bitten into a lemon.

"Only if Kelly wants to," Brad said, voice tight.

Kelly hesitated, torn between the comfort of Brad's familiar presence and the wild, unknown energy of her new friends. "Maybe for a little bit?" she said, looking up at him.

He relented, but barely. "I'll go if you want me to."

Samantha grinned. "It's settled! We'll pregame here, then roll down together. It'll be epic."

As the others began to make plans, Kelly drifted to the window, gazing out at the quad. She touched her braid, feeling the softness of her hair, and smiled.

Behind her, Thor's reflection lingered in the glass--tall, patient, unblinking. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her, and whether it matched what she felt stirring inside.

*****

The unpacking process sped up once everyone pitched in. As soon as she opened the first box, Aaron swooped in, lifting it effortlessly onto her desk and chirping, "Let's get you settled, Teach." He gave a playful wink to Samantha, who was seated cross-legged on her bed, her denim skirt slightly hiked up on her tanned thighs as she browsed her phone.

Thor, on the other hand, didn't go for any flashy moves. He quietly moved over to Kelly's side of the room and began assisting. "Do you want the desk by the window?" he asked, his voice low enough to make it clear he was addressing her specifically.

She nodded, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Yes, thanks!"

Brad, already irked by the chaos, intercepted a stack of notebooks from Aaron and began lining them up in perfect rows on the desktop. "She's got a system," he said, a little too loudly. "We color-code by subject."

Thor raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. Instead, he slid the desk two inches closer to the window, then stooped to plug in Kelly's desk lamp. She caught a whiff of his aroma--something sharp and citrusy.

Samantha's laugh rang out across the room. "Don't let the muscle fool you, Trace is a total neat freak. He alphabetizes his protein powder."

Kelly smiled back, and stared at Thor as she noticed his hand resting on the back of her desk chair, fingers drumming out a slow, deliberate rhythm.

"So, uh," she said, desperate to fill the silence, "how do you all know each other?"

"Football," Aaron and Thor replied in unison. Thor's lips curled in a sly half-smile.

Samantha added, "And I'm a cheerleader, but I don't get caught up into it like my teammates." She twirled a finger through a lock of her blonde hair, then fixed her gaze on Kelly. "You ever dated an athlete?"

Kelly blinked. "Well Brad was on the varsity track team."

Aaron grinned at Brad, who stiffened like he'd just been challenged to a fifty-meter dash. "You fast?" Aaron asked, all good-natured bravado.

Brad shrugged, jaw working. "School record in the mile."

"Respect," Aaron said, and Kelly could have sworn it was genuine. "But you're gonna want to see a real game. Week one next Saturday--everyone goes."

Thor, still close behind Kelly, said, "You'll be there, right?"

She nodded, then felt foolish. "I mean, if I'm not swamped with work. I want to keep ahead this semester."

Thor leaned in, his breath warm on the side of her neck. "Smart again." He reached past her, adjusting the angle of her desk lamp. His bicep grazed her shoulder and she felt every inch of it, even through the sleeve of her t-shirt.

Brad's eyes narrowed. "Maybe give her some space, man?"

Thor didn't move. If anything, he leaned a little closer. "Just making sure she's got the optimal setup."

Samantha giggled and stage-whispered to Aaron, "Testosterone levels are off the charts in here."

Aaron winked at Kelly. "You get used to it."

The next half hour was a blur of movement--books stacked, posters unrolled, a string of fairy lights draped with military precision across the headboard. Thor took charge of the heavy lifting, at one point lifting Kelly's entire mini fridge with one arm and setting it delicately on the rug. Brad hovered, intercepting every interaction, but it became clear that Thor was better at this kind of thing than he was. He worked quietly, efficiently, never once asking for help, but always ending up exactly where Kelly needed him.

At one point, she reached for a box of file folders just as Thor did. Their fingers brushed--his skin warm, almost electric against hers--and she yanked her hand back like she'd touched a hot stove.

"Sorry," she mumbled, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Don't be," Thor said. "I'm told I have that effect on people."

Aaron, overhearing, let out a laugh so loud it startled Kelly. "Careful, dude, you'll give her the wrong idea."

"I think she can handle it," Thor replied, looking straight at her. His gaze was steady, unblinking, and for a second Kelly forgot how to breathe.

Brad stepped in, sliding the box away. "We've got it," he said, too quickly.

Thor didn't argue, but the smile he gave Brad was slow and knowing. He moved to the far side of the room, giving Kelly space, but she could feel his attention like static electricity in the air.

Brad, meanwhile, was rearranging Kelly's books for the third time. He looked up and caught Thor watching him, then turned to Kelly. "Maybe we should run to the bookstore and grab your econ textbook before they sell out."

"We can do that later," Kelly said, not wanting to leave the warm, pulsing energy of the room. "I'm kind of having fun in here."

Thor's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Told you."

Brad exhaled, the sound tight. He perched on the edge of her bed and picked at a loose thread on the comforter. "Just thought you'd want to get ahead," he said, quieter now.

Kelly sat next to him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. She squeezed his hand, a silent apology.

By late afternoon, the room was fully transformed. Kelly's half was awash in color and light, her books and photos lined up just so.

Aaron and Samantha were still squabbling over something dumb when Thor gathered his things. "I'm going to head to that mixer and let you get settled," he said to Kelly. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

Kelly nodded, feeling a strange, reluctant disappointment at the prospect of him leaving.

He paused at the doorway, his gaze fixed on her. "I mean it--anything." The statement lingered, weighted with significance. "Are you two coming along?"

As Aaron and Samantha exited with him, the room felt strangely vacant, leaving just Kelly and Brad in the pressing silence.

Brad looked at her, eyes dark. "He's intense, that guy."

Kelly didn't disagree, but she wasn't sure how to explain the feeling. "He's nice, though. And helpful."

Brad's jaw flexed. "Just watch out, okay? Guys like that--" He stopped, then shook his head. "They get what they want."

She reached out, touching his cheek. "I know what I want," she said, meaning it.

He leaned in and kissed her, hard and a little desperate, and for a minute she let herself melt into the familiarity of his embrace. But even as she did, she couldn't help feeling the echo of Thor's presence--his eyes, his touch, his promise.

When the kiss broke, Brad rested his forehead against hers. "I love you," he whispered.

She closed her eyes, "I love you too."

*****

It was dark in Room 317 when the group returned. The "mixer" was pretty boring and mostly a get to know the other freshmen in the building.

Thor was perched in her desk chair, his long legs stretched out, hands folded in his lap. He looked completely at ease, but his eyes stayed on Kelly, flicking away only when she met them head-on. Aaron sprawled on Samantha's bed, back propped against the wall, absently scrolling through memes and occasionally tossing a quip into the conversation. Brad hovered a few feet from Kelly, who sat cross-legged atop her comforter, hands twisting her silver bracelet in endless loops. He didn't sit--never did when he was on edge--but instead leaned against her wardrobe, watching everyone with the wary focus of a sentry.

Samantha, ever the agent of chaos, was the first to break the lull. "Okay, new plan," she announced, snapping her phone shut and swinging her legs off the bed. "There's this bar just off campus--The Lantern. They don't card unless you're like, twelve. First night of college, we're going. Non-negotiable."

Aaron cheered, raising his can in salute. "Yes! I love this plan, Sam."

"Obviously," she deadpanned, but her eyes sparkled.

Thor's lips quirked, but he didn't comment. Instead, he watched Kelly.

Brad straightened, arms folding across his chest. "I think we should skip it," he said. "We've got a lot to do tomorrow, and some of us"--he shot a look at Thor--"have team meetings at dawn."

Samantha snorted. "You sound like my dad."

"I'm just being practical," Brad replied, the words stiff. "We barely finished unpacking, and we've got orientation, too."

Kelly tried to laugh, but the sound came out brittle. "It's not like we can't do that hungover," she said, but Brad's frown deepened.

Thor leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "College is about new experiences," he said, voice soft but carrying. "It's not a crime to have a little fun."

"Yeah, Brad, live a little," Aaron added, tossing a pillow at him. It bounced off Brad's arm and landed on Kelly's lap.

Brad ignored the jibe, turning to Kelly. "Do you want to go?" His tone was gentle, but Kelly heard the plea underneath.

She hesitated, eyes darting from Brad to the others and back. She fiddled with her bracelet, and tried to picture herself in a crowded bar, the noise, the strangers, the sticky floors. It wasn't her scene.

She glanced at Thor, who watched her with an unreadable intensity. His hands were relaxed, but she could see the flex of muscle in his forearms, the faint tap of one finger on his knee. "It's up to you, Teacher Girl," he said, and the nickname--so effortless, so personal--made her cheeks flush.

Sam, sensing the drama, amped up the pressure. "Come on, Kelly! First night on campus. You'll regret it forever if you don't."

Even Aaron chimed in. "We'll keep it chill. Back before midnight, promise."

Brad's face softened. "I'm going to get my dorm unpacked and stay in. We could grab dinner, just us, but if you want to go that's fine."

For a split second, Kelly considered it--the safe choice, the old routine. But something in her chest ached for the other option, the wild unknown of it.

Her voice, when it came, was small but certain. "Let's go."

Samantha squealed, clapping her hands together. Aaron whooped, almost spilling his drink. Thor's smile was slow and satisfied, as if he'd known all along.

Brad's jaw tensed, but he nodded. "I'll walk you over," he said, gathering his keys from the dresser.

Samantha leapt up and linked arms with Kelly. "This is going to be epic. You'll see." She spun her in a little circle, the two of them laughing as they nearly crashed into the wardrobe.

The guys started to leave to let them get ready. As they headed for the door, Brad hung back. "You sure you want to go?" he asked, voice low.

Kelly nodded. "I think it will be fun."

*****

Brad left, crossing the quad, his backpack slung over one arm. Kelly watched him go from the window, his figure shrinking as he walked further into the night.

Samantha, meanwhile, had already transformed their side of the suite into a cyclone of shimmery tops, leggings, and shoe options, each item tossed carelessly onto the loveseat or flung onto the bed as she deliberated. Kelly turned from the window to see Samantha modeling a rhinestone-studded tank, twisting to check the fit in the full-length mirror propped against the closet. Samantha's confidence in front of the mirror was spellbinding--she didn't simply check her appearance; she performed it, posing with a dancer's poise and a kind of knowing, wicked amusement.

"Your turn," Samantha announced, and shimmied out of the tank top, tossing it onto the growing pile. She gave Kelly a look of appraisal that was both critical and affectionate. "Let's see what you've got, babe."

Kelly's hands trembled a little as she unbuttoned her jeans. She wore a pale blue bra that she'd chosen for comfort, not for allure, and her underwear didn't match. She self-consciously held an arm over her stomach, wishing she'd taken the time to change into something sexier, or at least less practical. Samantha cocked her head and grinned.

"You're crazy," she said, eyes roving up and down. "You totally undersell what you've got. Why do you always hide behind those sweaters?"

Kelly flushed, grabbing the edge of a discarded blanket and tugging it around her hips. "I don't know. I don't really do tight stuff, I guess?"

Samantha trotted over to her side of the closet, fingers flicking through hangers. "You're going to tonight. Seriously. If I had your boobs, I'd be charging admission for a peek. Here--try this." She produced a dress, cherry red, with a plunging neckline, rippled sides, and a skirt that looked as if it might evaporate altogether if Kelly so much as sneezed.

Kelly stared at the dress, certain it would look obscene on her, but Samantha was already unzipping it and holding it up to Kelly's shoulders. "Come on, you promised to let me help. You want Thor to notice you, right?"

Kelly rolled her eyes, trying for casual. "Umm earth to Samantha, you just met my boyfriend, Brad. Remember?"

Samantha rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible. "Ugh, of all the roommates in all of campus, I get paired with the one in a relationship. And worse, an actual relationship." She flung a pair of heels onto the carpet and fixed Kelly with a look somewhere between exasperation and admiration. "Don't be a prude, Thompson. At least be my wing woman tonight. You know how intimidating guys like Aaron can be, he only ever talks about, like, bench presses and football. I need support."

Kelly started to laugh, but the sound came out brittle and nervous. "I think you can handle a linebacker, Sam." She clutched the dress in one hand, twisting it at the waist. "What would Brad say if he saw what you were making me wear?"

"He'd get over it." Samantha grinned. "Or maybe he'd try to get you out of it. You never know with the quiet types. Anyway, you think the boys put this much thought into what they wear out? Nope. We have to overcompensate." She swept her arms wide in a mock flourish, indicating her own glittering, cleavage-spilling top and liquid leather leggings.

Kelly glanced at Samantha--at the effortless way she navigated her own body, how she seemed to command attention without even trying--and for the briefest moment, wished she could trade places with her. Just for a night. Just to see what it felt like to move through the world with that level of confidence.

She felt her phone buzz on the desk. A message from Brad:

"Have a good night. Text me if you need me, okay? Love you."

The urge to reply with something flirty or reassuring was there, but she left it unread for now, letting the silence hang between them. It wasn't that she wanted to ignore him but she was enjoying her time alone with her new friend.

"Hello? Earth to Kelly?" Samantha snapped her fingers. "Come on, let's get you into this before you lose your nerve."

Kelly turned away, cheeks hot, and began to shimmy out of her jeans and sweater. For a fleeting moment she registered how exposed she felt even in her plain underwear--her body no longer something to be hidden under layers, but the subject of scrutiny. She hesitated, arms crossed over her chest.

Kelly undid her bra and let it fall. She slipped one arm, then the other, through the spaghetti straps, the fabric whisper-light against her skin. She tugged the dress over her hips, smoothed it over her ribcage, and stared at her own reflection with something approaching disbelief.

It was indecent. The red fabric plunged at the chest and hugged her waist so tightly she could see the movement of her own breath. The skirt, flippy and short, flared with the suggestion of every step. She looked--she didn't know what she looked like. Her chestnut hair, which she'd only bothered to brush out of habit, now fell in plush, shiny waves over one shoulder.

Samantha whistled, low and appreciative. "You look fucking incredible."

"Yeah, right." Kelly tried to pull her hair forward to cover her cleavage, but it only made the dress look more revealing.

"No, seriously. You could walk into a room and every guy would stop breathing for a second." She grabbed Kelly by the elbow and steered her to the full-length mirror. "I'd kill for a chest like yours. And look at your legs. Are you kidding?"

Kelly tried to look away, but Samantha was relentless. "I mean it. You have no idea what it's like to have that kind of effect on people, do you?"

Kelly opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She stared at the girl in the mirror--her own reflection, but not her and realized she had become one of those girls she'd always quietly resented: the ones who didn't have to try, the ones who could walk into a party and instantly become the center of gravity.

The air in the room thickened with a new electricity. Samantha had moved closer, her perfume a bright, floral current that mixed with Kelly's own nervous sweat. She draped her arm around Kelly's waist and squeezed, both of them reflected in the glass.

"If you ever get sick of Brad," Samantha whispered, lips almost brushing Kelly's ear, "just let me know, okay?"

Kelly's laugh was half gasp, half real. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Next, the shoes." Samantha had already lined up three pairs in Kelly's size: an unsteady pair of black stilettos, strappy patent-leather sandals, and cherry-red ankle boots that could have doubled as weapons. "Pick your poison."

Kelly eyed the stilettos, then shook her head. "Not unless you want to carry me home."

"Red boots it is!" Samantha knelt, helping Kelly into them, and zipped them up with a flourish. "You look like a goddamn superhero."

"A slutty superhero," Kelly muttered.

Samantha cackled and spun her by the shoulders. "The best kind."

They stood side by side, two versions of feminine bravado: Samantha in glitter and smoke, Kelly in red and nerves. For a moment, all the anxiety fell away. The suite was a safe cocoon, the air vibrant with possibility. They could be anything tonight.

A knock sounded on their door. "You girls ready?" Thor's deep voice, muffled by the hallway.

Samantha fluffed her hair and winked at Kelly. "Showtime."

Kelly checked herself one last time--twisting at the waist, smoothing the skirt, touching up her lipstick. She ducked into the bathroom and, while Samantha bantered with Thor in the hall, checked the lines of her dress in the mirror. The faint ridge of her plain cotton panties showed through the back. She considered just leaving them, but then remembered what Samantha had said about confidence, about owning your body.

She rifled through her top drawer and pulled out a black thong, barely worn, with a tiny red rose stitched at the waistband. She'd bought it for her birthday last year, then chickened out every time she thought about wearing it with Brad. She slipped it on, shivering at the difference, and caught sight of herself in the mirror again. There was still the same girl underneath, but now there was something sharper, more deliberate in the way she moved.

She ran a hand along her thighs and exhaled. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? To see what it felt like to be someone different, if only for a night.

Samantha called again, "Kelly! Let's go, the boys are waiting!"

Kelly grabbed her phone, slipped a stick of lip gloss into her tiny purse, and met Samantha at the door. Thor stood outside, he looked great in black jeans, white t-shirt, bomber jacket slung over one shoulder. His gaze landed on Kelly and there was a moment--just a flicker--where she saw something raw and hungry flash in his eyes.

"You clean up nice," he said, voice low. The compliment was simple but it landed with the force of a thrown stone.

"Oh, shut up," Kelly managed, but she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face.

AJ was at the end of the hall, arguing with another guy about fantasy football and completely oblivious to the drama unfolding by the girls' door. The four of them clustered together, laughing too loudly, and made their way down the stairwell.

The campus at night was a revelation: the air crisp, the sky purple-black, the quad studded with pockets of students orbiting their own private dramas. It was a Friday, so every path was full. Music drifted from open windows, the thump of bass and the echo of voices weaving together. It was impossible not to feel swept up in something larger--a tide of possibility and risk.

Thor took the lead, walking just ahead with a relaxed, almost predatory confidence. Samantha was beside AJ within seconds, already nudging him in the ribs and whispering something in his ear. Kelly trailed behind, watching the whole scene unfold as if she were both participant and observer.

They crossed the quad in a tight group, the boys flanking the girls. Kelly could feel other eyes on them--a ripple of attention as they moved through clusters of people. She felt exposed, but also powerful in a way she'd never experienced before. She stole glances at Thor, saw how his eyes kept drifting back toward her, not leering but appraising.

The bar was on the far edge of campus, a brick building that was so crowded on weekends that the sidewalk outside turned into an unofficial party. For AJ and Thor, the line and bouncers aren't an issue. Like all colleges they treat their athletes as royalty and they have a quick conversation at the front of the line before all four of them are whisked inside.

Inside, the bar throbbed with bodies and noise--music so loud the bass line seemed to vibrate the glass in your hand. The lights, meant to be seductive, were so dim that Kelly's eyes took a full minute to adjust.

AJ was in his element, high-fiving teammates from the football team, already holding court at a sticky corner table before Kelly even finished scanning the room. Samantha floated beside him, her laughter the brightest thing in the bar.

They made it through two rounds of shots before AJ announced that he and Samantha needed "to powder their noses." Kelly caught the look Samantha threw her. Bright, mischievous, and not the least bit apologetic--before the two disappeared through the crowd.

"They're going to get us thrown out if they keep running off to the bathroom," Thor said, leaning into Kelly's ear so she could hear him over the noise. His hand landed on the small of her back, just above the curve of her ass, and for a second she thought he was steadying her, but he didn't move it away. She didn't make him move it either.

Suddenly, it was just her and Thor, pressed close together at the bar, alone in a sea of drunk college students.

Thor ordered them another round, neat vodka for him, a spiked seltzer for her. She sipped from the can slowly, not trusting herself to do otherwise. She was aware of every inch of her skin--the dress, the boots, the fact that she was bra-less and practically naked under the thin slip of fabric. She was sure Thor knew it too.

"So when do you get to have some fun, Kelly?" he asked, his voice deeper and slower than usual.

"I'm having fun now," she lied. Or maybe she wasn't lying. The air between them buzzed like a live wire, dangerous and impossible to ignore.

He grinned, eyes flicking down to her lips and then lower. "You don't seem like the type."

"What type?"

"The type to let loose." He let that hang between them, the challenge naked. "I bet you were always the good girl."

Kelly felt her cheeks flush. She wanted to protest, to insist she could be wild and impulsive and exactly the kind of girl who did things she would regret tomorrow. But she couldn't quite summon the words.

Instead, she finished her drink and pulled Thor toward the dance floor. The music was even louder here. Bodies pressed together, no rhythm, just friction and the collective urge to forget everything except the next few minutes.

Thor turned her by the hips, pressing his palm flat against her lower back until her body fit against his, her ass flush with his thighs. She let herself move with the crowd, the sway of her hips reducing the space between them to nothing. At first, his hands held her politely, fingertips grazing the sides of her dress, but with every beat of the song they grew bolder--one hand sliding down to the top of her thigh, the other tracing lazy circles along her bare shoulder.

Kelly reassured herself that there was nothing wrong with it. It was just dancing, after all.

He smelled like aftershave, but under that was a raw, male sweatiness that made Kelly's stomach do cartwheels. She reached back, half to steady herself, half to see what would happen, and her hand landed on his leg. The muscle there was hard and corded.

As they continued to dance she could feel him--without even trying, thick and unmistakable against the back of her dress. She tried to ignore it, but as they danced, as his hands tightened and loosened in time with the music, it became impossible not to notice.

He leaned down, his mouth grazing the shell of her ear. "I guess you can have fun." His breath was hot, intoxicating.

"You're impossible," she said, but she didn't sound annoyed.

He laughed and spun her around, facing him. For a split second she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he just looked at her. Their eyes locked in a staring contest.

The song ended, the lights flashed, and suddenly AJ and Samantha reappeared at their sides, both of them flushed and wild-eyed. AJ had a ring of white powder clinging to one nostril and didn't seem to care in the slightest.

Samantha looked at Kelly and gave her a sly, knowing grin, as if she'd been watching the whole time. "You guys just going to stand there, or are you coming back to the table?"

Thor's hand found Kelly's again, this time linking their fingers. He tugged her after him, not letting go even as they navigated the tight, jostling crowd back to their corner booth.

The rest of the night blurred into a whirlpool of drinks, laughter, and music. At first, Kelly tried to pace herself, but with every round, the world got easier to manage. Jokes and flirtation ricocheted around the table. Thor kept his hand on Kelly's thigh under the table, sometimes squeezing it in punctuation to a joke, sometimes just resting it there, warm and proprietary.

Kelly shifted or would gently move his hand away at first but overtime she thought it innocent enough and not worth making a bigger deal out of than it needed to be. Perhaps it was the drinks but she found herself enjoying his touch and started leaning into him, letting her own hands wander--up his arm, over the hard plane of his chest when she dared, loving the way he tensed under her touch. At one point, he brushed a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, the gesture so intimate it made her shiver.

She checked her phone once, saw a message from Brad.

"Hope you're having fun. Text me when you get back safe. Love you <3"

Kelly immediately felt a sick twist of guilt in her gut. She typed a half-hearted reply, "All good! See you later!"

After midnight, Thor signaled that it was time to leave. AJ and Samantha were slumped together and giggling about something that made no sense, and Kelly could tell Samantha was itching to get back to the dorm with him.

The four of them left the bar arm in arm, stumbling into the crisp night air. Thor made sure to keep Kelly close, his palm firmly planted on her hip. She didn't mind. Part of her was thrilled by the raw attention he showed her, the way he seemed to want to claim her in front of everyone.

They reached their dorm after a short walk. AJ and Samantha peeled off first, heading straight for the elevator, lost in their own bubble. Thor and Kelly lingered by the entrance, neither of them quite ready to say goodnight.

He pulled her aside, behind a vending machine alcove, and when he looked down at her, she could see the hunger in his eyes. "You want to come up for a bit?" he asked, voice low and rough. "Or do you need to get back to your boyfriend?"

The question was meant as a tease but landed like a dare. Kelly hesitated, her mind racing. She thought of Brad, of the promises she'd made to herself, and felt the walls of her resolve start to crumble.

She let Thor lead her to his floor letting all the shots influence her despite knowing deep down this was wrong.

His room was bigger than hers, all the furniture arranged to maximize the sense of space. Posters of rappers and athletes covered every surface; the air was heavy with the scent of weed and energy drinks. Thor flicked on a lamp, then closed the door behind them.

They stood in silence for a few seconds. Kelly fidgeted with the zipper on her purse, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands.

"So, uh, what do you want to do now?" she asked, the words coming out softer than she meant.

He grinned, a wolfish flash of teeth. "I think you know."

He stepped closer, close enough that the heat of his body radiated against her bare skin. Kelly looked up at him, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and guilt. His eyes, gentle and inviting, caught her off guard, conflicting with the storm inside her heart. When he kissed her, it was surprisingly slow--just lips at first, soft and searching, yet her conscience screamed. Her thoughts were a tangled mess, every fiber of her being aware that she shouldn't be here, not with him. But as she didn't pull away, he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring, his hands cradling her face. A quiet voice in her head insisted she was drunk, a weak attempt to justify the betrayal to herself.

The kiss was dizzying. Kelly clung to him, barely aware of her own hands winding up into his short-cropped hair. He pressed her into the door, his body pinning hers in place. There was nothing tentative about the way he touched her now--his hands roamed her back, her sides, finally settling on her ass, kneading it through the thin fabric of the dress until she moaned.

He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth down along her jaw, nipping at her ear, then lower, his hands never leaving her body. He sucked gently at her neck, right where it would bruise, and she let herself gasp out loud.

"You're gorgeous," he said, and there wasn't even a hint of artifice.

Kelly's heart raced, a storm of conflicting emotions churning within her. She wanted to speak, to voice the unease gnawing at her, but Thor's hands were already beneath her dress, fingertips trailing along her thighs and creeping higher. His lips met hers again, more fervently this time, and the pressure of his body between her knees made her acutely aware of his intentions.

A wave of panic surged through Kelly, and she pushed Thor away, her voice trembling, "This is wrong. I have a boyfriend. And I just met you." Her thoughts were a whirlpool, Brad's face flashing in her mind, a reminder of the love and trust she was on the brink of betraying.

Thor advanced, dismissing her concerns with a casual, "Come on, Brad? He might be a good high school boyfriend but you need a man in college." The dismissive tone stung, and Kelly was taken aback by his insensitivity and lack of understanding.

Her mind was a tumult, guilt and regret battling for dominance. "We had too much to drink. This was a mistake, and I'm sorry if I led you on," she managed to say, her voice laden with remorse. Clutching her purse, she made for the door, desperate to escape this moment that threatened to unravel her relationship with Brad. But as she cracked the door open, a force pushed it shut, trapping her in a situation she feared could shatter everything she held dear.

Thor put his mouth up to her cheek near her ear, "I won't stop you but you know where I am when you realize what you need. I'll show you why they call me Thor." He grabbed her hand and pushed it up his thigh. For a moment, Kelly the bulge in his jeans and it took her breath away before she retracted, opened the door, and went to check on Brad.

Kelly endured a brisk walk across the quad with groups of guys coming back from the bars staring at her and making lewd comments before she got to Brad's room. He was asleep but happy to be woken by Kelly and hear about her night.

"Hey, you're awake!" she said, her voice high and breathy, her tipsiness tumbling her words together.

He smiled, relaxing into the warmth of her presence. She was always beautiful, but tonight was different. The tight mini dress, the plunging neckline showing off more cleavage than he'd ever seen her display. He'd seen her in bathing suits, even lingerie, but the effect of the dress was devastating, almost confrontational in its sexuality. Her tanned skin glowed against the red fabric, her eyes shining with something dangerous and new.

"Wow, Kelly, you look amazing in that dress," he said, more awake now, his voice thick with awe and the undertone of arousal. "It's a bit... revealing, isn't it?"

She laughed again, a sound that managed to be both mischievous and apologetic. "Sam's idea. She said it was 'mandatory for our first night out.'" Kelly did a little twirl, the dress riding up her thighs. "Is it too much?" she asked, suddenly bashful, tugging at the hem.

He shook his head, propping himself up higher. "It's perfect." And it was--perfect on her, perfect for the night, perfect for the way her confidence seemed to flicker on and off, never settling. He wanted to take a picture, to have proof of this version of her: bold, beautiful, just a little bit wild.

She crossed the room in three strides and fell into his arms, burying her face in his neck. She smelled like vodka and perfume, and something else he couldn't quite name--something musky, electric, not her usual scent. He ran his hands up her bare arms, feeling goosebumps rise under his touch.

"I missed you," she confessed with a hint of vulnerability, her voice barely above a whisper, as if seeking forgiveness. Her lips met his softly as though each kiss was a silent plea for understanding. Her tongue traced lightly between his teeth, a gentle dance of reconciliation. She eased onto the bed, straddling him with a delicate grace, the fabric of her dress slipping up past her hips in a motion that seemed almost repentant. Any previous hesitations dissolved, replaced by a fervor that spoke volumes of her regret and longing to make amends for her earlier actions.

He let his hands roam, first over her hips, thumbs tracing the exposed lines of her panties, then up her back, relishing every curve. She squirmed against him, grinding down, making it impossible to ignore the heat between her legs. He was already hard, and she smiled when she felt it, kissing him deeper, her hands busy tugging at his t-shirt.

Brad tried to slow her down, to savor the moment, but she was relentless. She pulled his shirt off, raked her nails down his chest, then guided his hands back up to her thighs. The dress was almost an afterthought now, bunched around her waist. She pulled it over her head tossed it aside.

She was on top of him now, taking charge in a way that left him breathless. He gripped her ass, pulling her down onto him, and she moaned loudly, not caring about the thin dorm walls. She bit his neck, her breath hot in his ear, and whispered, "God, I need you," before fumbling between them to push her panties aside and guiding him inside her.

He'd never felt her so wet, so ready. She moved with a frantic rhythm, hips grinding, hair falling around their faces like a curtain. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head thrown back, and for a moment Brad wondered if she was even thinking about him at all. He tried to keep pace, but she was too much--too fast, too hungry.

They came together with a desperate kind of violence, Kelly's hands digging into his shoulders, her moans loud and unrestrained. When it was over, she collapsed on top of him, both of them gasping for air, slick with sweat.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Brad traced circles on her back, feeling the leftover tremors in her muscles. He was grateful--grateful she'd chosen him tonight, grateful she loved him, grateful that whatever temptations existed out there, she always came home to him.

He wanted to tell her this, to say something profound and meaningful, but all that came out was, "You're incredible."

She smiled, but there was a shadow behind her eyes, a flicker of something he couldn't place. She kissed him again, softer this time, and curled up beside him, pressing her body close. He pulled the blanket over them and held her tight, convinced that nothing could ever break what they had.

He drifted off with the taste of her still on his lips, certain that their love was indestructible. He was asleep in minutes.

Kelly didn't sleep. Not at first. She lay awake, curled against Brad's chest, listening to the even rhythm of his breaths. He was everything she'd ever wanted in a boyfriend--loyal, smart, devoted, the kind of guy you could bring home to your mother. She loved him, she really did.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Thor. About his hands, his mouth, the way he'd made her feel wanted in ways Brad never had. The memory of his touch still tingled on her skin, and she felt guilty, sick with shame, even as Brad's arms held her tight.

She promised herself it would never happen again, that tonight was a fluke, a lapse in judgment. She'd tell Brad the truth, maybe, when the time was right. Or maybe she'd just bury it, let it rot away in some hidden corner of her heart.

Either way, she knew she'd never be the same. She'd tasted something dangerous, and the hunger for it wasn't going away.