PUCK ME, STEPBROTHER

Julian's POV

This is exactly what I live for.

The Morrison house is packed with people, music loud enough to make conversation impossible unless you're shouting. Beer everywhere, students from Blackridge getting drunk and stupid.

And they're all looking at me like I'm the reason this party matters.

I'm holding court in the main living room, sprawled across the biggest couch with my teammates flanking me like bodyguards. Marcus is telling some story about practice yesterday, but I'm only half listening. I'm too busy enjoying the way people keep glancing over at us, the way conversations pause when I laugh, the way girls keep finding excuses to walk past our corner.

This is my world. These are my people.

Jake appears with another round of drinks, expensive stuff that his parents probably don't even know is missing from their liquor cabinet.

"Hayes," he says, handing me a beer. "You see the turnout? Half the freshman class showed up just because they heard you'd be here."

I take a sip and grin. "What can I say? I'm irresistible."

The guys laugh, and a few girls nearby giggle like I've said something incredibly clever. It's all so easy, so natural. This is where I belong - at the center of everything, with everyone wanting to be close to me.

I'm scanning the crowd, noting who's here and who's trying too hard to get my attention, when I spot something that makes me do a double take.

No way.

Across the crowded room, standing near the kitchen entrance, is the coffee shop disaster himself. The little brunette transfer student who's been occupying way too much space in my head lately.

What the hell is he doing here?

He looks completely out of place, just like he did that first day on campus. His clothes are wrong - some cheap button-down shirt that probably came from a department store, jeans that don't fit quite right. But somehow he's not standing alone in a corner like I expected.

He's talking to a group of girls.

And they're laughing.

I watch, irritated, as one of the girls touches his arm while she says something. He smiles - that shy, genuine smile that makes his whole face light up - and I feel something hot and uncomfortable twist in my chest.

Since when do people find him charming?

"Earth to Julian," Tyler says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. "You okay, man? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," I mutter, forcing myself to look away from the brunette.

But I can't stop glancing back. Every time I look, he's still there, still talking to those girls, still looking perfectly comfortable despite being surrounded by people who should be way out of his league.

It's irritating as hell.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," someone shouts from across the room. "Truth or dare time!"

A cheer goes up from the crowd, and I watch as people start gathering in the center of the living room, pushing furniture aside to make space for a circle. It's juvenile as hell - the kind of game we played in middle school - but at parties like this, people will do anything for entertainment.

"Come on, Julian," Jake says, standing up. "You know you can't miss this."

He's right. I never back down from anything, especially not party games that give me another chance to be the center of attention. Plus, if I'm being honest, I'm curious to see if the transfer student will join in.

I don't have to wonder for long. As the circle forms, I watch the group of girls he was talking to literally drag him into the ring of people sitting on the floor. He looks nervous but not scared, and when his eyes meet mine across the circle, there's something defiant in them.

Interesting.

The game starts with some easy truths and boring dares. Sarah admits to hooking up with her TA, Tom has to text his ex, typical college party stuff. But the energy builds as the bottle keeps spinning, and people start getting more creative with their challenges.

Then the bottle lands on him.

The brunette stares at the bottle pointing directly at him, and the room goes quiet for a beat. Someone calls out "Truth or dare?" and without hesitating, he says, "Dare."

His voice is steady, confident even. There's a challenge in the way he says it, like he's daring us to try to embarrass him.

"Dance on the coffee table!" someone shouts from across the circle.

A few people laugh, but the brunette just nods and stands up. I expect him to be awkward, maybe stumble through some embarrassing attempt at dancing that will give everyone something to laugh about.

I'm completely wrong.

The music shifts to something with a beat, and he steps onto the coffee table. For a second, he just stands there. Then he starts to move.

And it's good. Really good.

He knows how to dance, not like the awkward stuff most guys do at parties. His whole body moves with the music, confident and smooth. Like he's done this before.

The room goes quiet except for the music. Everyone's staring as this quiet transfer student turns into something completely different. Something that makes people pay attention.

Several people whistle appreciatively. A few girls call out encouragement. But I can't make a sound. I can't even breathe properly.

When the song ends, he climbs down from the table. His face is red from moving around, his hair messed up. He's got this smile like he knows everyone's still staring.

His eyes find mine across the circle, and there's something there. Like he's asking what I think now.

My mouth is dry.

The bottle spins again, and this time it lands on me. The room buzzes with anticipation - everyone knows I never back down from a dare, and they're all waiting to see what I'll choose.

"Truth or dare, Hayes?" Jake asks, grinning like he already knows what I'll say.

"Dare," I say automatically, even though my head is still spinning from watching that dance.

There's a moment of excited whispering as people try to come up with something good. Finally, a voice calls out from somewhere in the circle.

"Kiss the hottest person in the room!"

The crowd erupts in cheers and laughter. It's exactly the kind of dare they'd give me - something that plays into my reputation, something that gives me a chance to show off.

I should pick one of the girls who's been eyeing me all night. Should choose someone safe, someone expected. Should play this exactly the way everyone thinks I will.

Instead, I look right at the brunette sitting across the circle. Still red-faced from dancing, still looking at me like he's waiting for something.

He's the hottest person in this room.

That thought hits me hard.

I shake my head and force myself to look away. What the hell am I thinking?

"Come on, Julian!" someone shouts. "Pick someone!"

I scan the circle and grab the first safe option I see. Some blonde girl who's been eyeing me all night. She squeals when I walk over and kiss her, and the crowd cheers.

But the whole time, I can feel dark eyes watching me from across the circle.