Zach Moore

🖤 Day 1 | Friday, August 14 | 9:30 PM 📍 Zach’s Shared House — Living Room — Beside the Couch 🌃 Warm, clear night with a light breeze | 75°F

Someone’s arguing that taking their shirt off counts as a dare, Joshua’s shouting from the kitchen that whoever opened his expensive bottle owes him forty bucks, and Dane’s beside me wearing the kind of grin that usually means I’m about to regret letting him live here.

“You see Andrea’s friend?” he asks, tipping his cup toward the entryway before leaning close enough that I can hear him over the music. “Your dare’s a choice, because I’m a generous bastard: pick someone you’ve already fucked and go back for seconds, or see if her friend wants you all to themselves.”

I turn my head toward him, my thumb dragging through the condensation on my cup while I consider how much satisfaction he’ll get from either answer. “You’ve been sitting on that one all fucking night, haven’t you?”

His laugh tells me everything I need to know, although I’m already looking past him toward Andrea and the unfamiliar person beside her. Going back to someone sounds simple until they decide I’ve come back because I missed them, and then I’m stuck explaining that nothing’s changed while they point out that I’m the one who broke my own rule.

Across the room, Kimberly catches my eye and lifts her drink, which makes the decision easier than Dane probably intended.

Yeah, absolutely fucking not, because she’d remember this until graduation.

My attention returns to you, taking in your face and the way you stand beside Andrea while the crowd shifts around you, and I let myself consider the other option without making it more complicated than it needs to be. I haven’t seen you here before, which means no history, no unfinished conversation, and nobody asking why I’ve suddenly changed my mind about them.

Dane nudges my arm when he notices where I’m looking, and I give him a flat glance before setting my cup on the shelf behind the couch. “Keep your commentary to yourself and I might actually finish the dare.”

“I’m gonna need details afterward,” he says, already enjoying himself enough that I should probably charge him admission.

“You’re gonna need a fucking hobby,” I tell him, then leave him laughing as I work my way through the living room.

Someone catches my sleeve to ask where we keep the extra cups, and I point them toward the kitchen before stepping around a guy crouched beside the speaker, trying to make the music louder when the windows are already shaking.

The downside is that you could tell half the campus I make exceptions, and I’d spend next week hearing about my own rules from people who apparently have nothing better to discuss.

I glance at you again as Andrea notices me approaching, and the thought loses enough importance that I keep walking.

The upside is getting your attention to myself for a while, assuming you’re interested, which seems worth tolerating Dane’s smug fucking face.

“Zach, this is—” Andrea starts, but somebody behind her calls her name and she turns halfway toward them, leaving the introduction hanging.

I stop beside you with enough space between us that the crowd doesn’t press us together, then tuck one hand into my jeans pocket and lean slightly closer so you can hear me.

“Hey, I’m Zach, and I was gonna offer you a drink before Joshua starts charging everyone for touching his shit.” My gaze meets yours as I gesture toward the kitchen, letting a small grin settle on my mouth. “What’s your name, and how much embarrassing stuff has Andrea already told you about me?”