Pax sees that she's chosen green today before everyone fucking else, because she's standing outside his door when he pulls it open.

Song gives him a wide smile. "Hi. Good morning."

Pax wants to fucking lean on the door and stare at that smile, eyes going down to her pink lips...that kiss—

"I was going to ask you to come pick me up this morning so we can get breakfast," she says softly, bringing his eyes back to hers, "but I realized I don't have your number. And I didn't want to wait for class to see you, so I asked around for your room."

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! She's going to kill him, she's going to fucking kill him.

She doesn't break her stare after admitting that—and goddamn it, it was fucking hot and sexy—and just raises her eyebrows at him. "Do you not want to get breakfast with me?"

I fucking do, give me all the fucking breakfasts in the fucking world.

Pax shuts the door closed behind him, and he catches Song's pleased smile before she turns away to walk forward.

But then she turns back around to face him and grabs his hand.

Pax almost dies.

"What, do you not like this?" Song asks, as if she's not giving him fucking cardiac arrest—"Too bad. As my boyfriend, you have to do this."

He's not going to fucking complain, his jaw is clamped shut. His legs move like fucking jelly when she pulls him forward.

Designer bag on one hand, Pax Sandejas on the other.

The corner of his lips curve upwards. That's fucking right.

God, Song left her fucking smell in his car last night—vanilla and fucking caramel everywhere. He dreamt of her face when he pulled away kissing her, saw her fucking red cheeks and wet and swollen lips and her unruly hair—Pax didn't deserve seeing that shit but fuck if he's not selfish.

He wants more.

Today, Pax can see the fucking line of her chest from her shortass dress, and his free hand twitches wanting to pull it open, wanting to slide her white cardigan off her pretty fucking shoulders with his teeth and damn those legs and her pretty hair over her pretty face—

He frowns when he sees her reaching out for the door handle as soon as they reach the small café just across their building.

Song has fucking doors opened for her all the time, doesn't she? She made him do it yesterday, but then she acted surprised when he did it again.

Pax reaches over with his free hand and pushes it before she can touch the glass.

There she fucking goes again. Song gives him those wide eyes and surprised smile and her soft, "Oh. Thank you," before she steps inside.

The fuck. She should be used to that by now.

Song only loosens her hold when they find a corner booth near the counter and asks him to order for her with a fucking please.

Pax scowls, having to let go of her hand, and goes to the counter.

She's an iced latte girl, of course she fucking is. Pax slides in next to her, thigh pressed to her bare one, Jesus Christ, and watches her spread the table napkin over her legs again before she carefully slices her pancakes. She keeps looking at him like she's waiting for him to say something.

Pax chews his pancake and raises an eyebrow.

"I want your number."

Almost fucking spits it out. He chokes once, turning away from her, gets his shit together, and takes his phone from his pocket.

Want. She wants his number.

Pax slides it to her and she puts her number in. After she texts herself from his phone, she hands it back and smiles. "Now I want your class schedule."

Jesus Christ.

His heart is lurching to his throat and he has to gulp down water before giving the phone back to her with his course schedule.

Song pushes away her plate and pulls out her fucking tablet. Pax furrows his eyebrows when he sees her making adjustments to her planner.

"What the fuck are you doing."

Song looks up and blinks. "What? Oh, well." She smiles at him. "I usually plan my time around my...boyfriend's so we can see each other, so I adjust—"

The word boyfriend makes him fucking giddy, but the rest of the sentence makes him want to kill with the fucking breadknife in his hand. Pax snatches his phone back.

"Wait, I wasn't—"

"You don't have to fucking do that," he says, glaring at her. "See me whenever you fucking want. And I'll see you whenever I fucking want unless you don't want me to, need your space, or tell me to fuck off."

Is this what her past dickshits made her do? Adjust her time to them?

Pax wants to see her as much as fucking possible and he hates being ignored, but he's not going to be a fucking douche about it.

He follows her terms.

Song is giving him her surprised fucking look again.

Pax snaps, "What—"

And she shocks him to fucking silence when her hand goes to his cheek and Song gives him a quick kiss on the mouth.

She pulls away, turning back to her drink. Pax is fucking frozen. "I have study group today after class at the library, but I'm free afterwards."

Pax blinks.

"Hey. You still with me?"

Shit, yes. Pax grabs her hand this time and walks with her back to campus, and she's fucking smiling and that smile better fucking be for him. Their whole class shuts up when they walk in together and Pax relishes the look of betrayal in Aaron's face when he sits down, spreads his legs, and eats his candy.

Pax almost dies again when Song leans over his chair, smiles and kisses his cheek before walking away to her next class.

He sits there for ten minutes, trying to calm his fucking heart.

*

Pax glares at his fucking phone. It's not doing shit!

Is she still not done with study fucking group? When is it Pax fucking time?

He knows he told her to see him when she wants to, but fuck! He wants to see her now, goddamn it!

"She's fucking ignoring me," he snaps to Blaise.

"Oh, sweetie. When's the last time you saw her?"

"This fucking morning. That was seven hours ago!"

"Holy shit," he hears Arden whisper. "These boys cannot go seven hours without being ignored."

"Five, actually," Blaise says.

Pax hangs up because he's doing what his brothers do when they're ignored. They demand not to be ignored.

He skips the steps up to the library and almost crashes into her.

Fuck, yes. Pax holds onto Song's arms as she stares at him with wide eyes, phone in one hand. "Hi," she breathes, obviously shocked. "I was just about to text you."

"Took too fucking long." He grabs her hand and pulls her—harshly at first, but then he remembers she's always wearing goddamn heels and she does not like being pulled.

Pax lets go and stops. Song blinks at him.

He sighs through gritted teeth and holds out his hand. "I'll pull you like a rag doll to get you alone faster if you don't lead the way."

Pax watches in fucking awe when her smile becomes wider, and then she slips her hand in his slowly and walks forward.

"My room," he says lowly when they reach the dormitories.

"Okay," she whispers, turning to the boys'.

Pax resists grinning when they pass by the line of dogs who wanted to ask her out.

Fuck off.

Song pulls him inside when he opens it with his keycard, letting go of his hand and placing her things on his desk.

Pax points to the food. "I don't like you dead."

She gives him her surprised fucking look again and points to herself. "Me? This is for me?"

"Who the fuck else." He sits down on the bed and watches her. "There's a fucking table napkin in there."

Song sits down, stunned, and puts it over her legs. She eats quietly and Pax just watches her.

Fucking pretty hands. Pretty mouth. Everything fucking pretty. "Why did you pick me up?" she asks softly.

"I missed your face, what the fuck else."

She blinks. "Oh."

She sounds so fucking unlike her, so fucking unsure, that it makes Pax angry. "What, your type doesn't come pick you up when they fucking miss you?"

Pax knows jackshit about her type but he knows it's not him. She said so herself.

"They usually don't," Song says, smiling at him. "Miss me."

What the fuck.

"Your type is fucking shit," Pax snarls.

He wants to see her all the goddamn time, he wants to study with her, he wants to go with her to her fucking shopping trips, wants breakfast with her every fucking morning—

Pax stares at her expectantly when she's done cleaning up and touching up her fucking makeup in the bathroom.

"First," she says, taking off her shoes, "I want to watch something with you. You don't touch your phone or play games while I watch by myself."

Why the fuck would he be on his phone or play games when she's here with him and why the fuck would she watch by herself. Pax moves along the bed, bringing his laptop to the mattress, and she sits down next to him. God, fuck. He almost wants her to roll over his sheets so her scent fucking sticks.

"And second." Song scoots closer to him, takes his arm, and wraps it around her pretty fucking waist. She leans on his chest and doesn't look at him when she says, "I want to cuddle with you while watching."

Oh, he fucking loves this.

His fingers curl themselves over her waist while he watches her pick out a movie. Song's eyebrows are furrowed and her lips are pursed, and her hair falls over her cheek. Pax can hear his fucking heart racing in fucking giddiness when he reaches over with his other hand and pushes her hair to the back of her ear as gently as he can.

Song looks at him with a smile. "Is this okay?"

He doesn't give a shit about what she picked. He nods once, and Song presses play.

Pax doesn't give a shit about the movie when she's this close and he can hear her breaths, feel her warmth, and his teeth clench when her white cardigan slides off her shoulder when she shifts slightly.

Pax can't help himself. He makes it thirty minutes in the fucking movie before his head bows down and his lips press to her shoulder.

Song's breath catches.

"Shit, fuck," Pax mutters against her skin, kisses her shoulder again, wants to fucking slide the strap away with his teeth but he'll scare her if he does. "Sorry. You're fucking distracting."

"I can tell." Her voice is right by his ear.

His mouth moves higher, his nails dig into her hip. Pax noses against her pretty little neck and he kisses her racing pulse point. It jumps under his lips and he grins, chuckles breathlessly.

"Sandejas."

He leans over, traces the line of her jaw with his mouth, his free hand on her neck.

"We're supposed to be watching," Song whispers, eyes wide when Pax raises his head and meets them with his own. His thumb goes to her bottom lip and he stares at it, mesmerized.

"Need to fucking kiss you, please, please." Pax doesn't want to wait for her to say yes but he's not going to fucking force her.

"You didn't touch your phone," Song says, smile growing wider. "And you didn't want to play games instead. Yes, you can kiss—"

Pax almost knocks over his fucking laptop pressing their mouths together. He finds that he doesn't care if it fucking breaks.

Pax slides her cardigan off impatiently while he tastes her greedily, and then pushes the straps down, gets her in her fucking bra, and God, God, she's fucking beautiful—

"Fucking insulting dress," he growls lowly, and his arms slide around her waist and pull her to his lap, let her feel how badly he fucking wants her. She gasps in his mouth, threads her fingers in his hair when his hands go to her chest and his head dips down.

"Wait, Pax, I'm—"

Pax raises his head, thumbs massaging her, and he almost dies.

Her eyes are wide, cheeks flushed, lips wet and swollen, hair ruined. Her dress is down to her torso and her skin is so fucking soft and smooth.

Her hands go to cover her chest, pushing his away. "I'm not—I'm not going to sleep with you."

"Okay." He's also a fucking virgin, and he's hard as shit right now but he also knows it's too fucking fast and he definitely does not want to scare her.

Her pace.

"I'm also scared."

Pax blinks at her. "I'm not going to fucking force—"

"No, I know," Song rushes to say, pursing her lips, still covering herself. "I know, I'm just...I've never..."

Never fucking what.

No one has fucking touched her there? Kissed her there?

Anywhere?

FUCKING SAME. God, shit, fuck YES.

Pax will fucking worship her.

Pax slaps her hands away. "Stop that. I can jerk off to you and fucking come. You're pretty as hell." He bucks his hips up and her hands fly to his shoulders, eyes wide. "Feel that? Barely even touched you and I'm hard as fucking shit."

"Oh my God." Song buries her head in his shoulder and he shudders feeling her breath on his skin. "You're so crude."

"And you're so fucking pretty." He pulls her hair back to capture her lips again, head tilting up. Her hands cup his face so fucking gently.

She sleeps next to him after they finally finish the fucking movie with her hand stroking his hair on her lap. And then Pax kisses her shoulder, slides her strap back up, and pulls her to him.