After a minute of catching our breath and making out against the wall, sanity slowly crept back into my brain. Andrew casually strolled over through the stunned crowd, handing us a couple of bar towels so we could clean up.

  I zipped my pants, wiped my face, and turned around to face the music.

  Nikoy was standing calmly with his hands in his pockets, casually arguing with the guy I had punched, who was now sitting on the floor clutching his rapidly swelling jaw. A rge circle of tense, angry frat brothers had surrounded our crew.

  "What the hell is going on here?" a massive, muscur blonde guy demanded, pushing his way to the front. I immediately recognized him as Mike, the fraternity president.

  "Your little puppy here is a massive party pooper, Mike," Nikoy stated ftly, pointing at the guy on the floor.

  "He fucking punched me!" the guy shouted, pointing a shaking finger up at me.

  "Why did he punch you?" Mike asked, crossing his massive arms.

  "Because your dog is a fucking virgin!" Boris’s deep, menacing voice boomed. He stepped right up to Mike, forcing the frat president to look up at him. "He interrupted our guy while he was just trying to have some fun!"

  "Whoa, chill out, bro. We all know you Draufg?ngers do crazy, reckless shit. I just want to know what actually happened," Mike said, raising his hands defensively to calm the giant Russian down.

  "Remember the rule: no one messes with our guy!" Nikoy stepped up, his pyful demeanor completely gone. He stared daggers at the frat boys. "And stop calling us Draufg?ngers! We’re not fucking German!"

  "Chill out, will ya! I just want to hear his side of the story," Mike insisted, looking directly at me.

  I stepped forward. I calmly expined to the frat president exactly what had happened. I didn't stutter, and I made it perfectly clear that I absolutely didn't regret punching his brother, because he had put his hands on me and interrupted my girl.

  For a tense, heavy second, the frat boys just stared at me, their eyes wide.

  And then, Mike let out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “Fine. But I want him and his girl the fuck out of my house. Right now.”

  "Deal. But try teaching your little puppies how to behave around us," Boris warned him, his deep voice leaving no room for argument.

  Mike just nodded, his jaw tight, and gestured for his boys to disperse and back down.

  "That’s it?" I asked Nikoy, my adrenaline finally crashing as the crowd parted for us.

  "I already told you, Derro. If you’re with us, no one can stop you," Nikoy grinned widely, patting my shoulder.

  "Fucking hell. You guys are absolute lunatics."

  Nikoy checked the silver watch on his wrist. "It is almost ten o'clock, Derro! You should drive systra to her old dorm now, no?"

  "Yeah. Shit. We have to go right now."

  "Bomba! Besides, let’s not keep the frat boys restless tonight. We already made a massive scene; let’s give them some space," Nikoy said, suddenly sounding like a wise, responsible diplomat.

  "Agreed. And... sorry for causing a scene, Broda."

  "Blyad! No hard feelings, Derro! You’re officially a part of the Legend now!!" He ughed loudly.

  After Jessica and I finally detached ourselves from the wall, we said our goodbyes to Nikoy, Andrew and Boris.

  As we walked through the sprawling mansion toward the front door, I could feel the heavy stares of the crowd following us. But this time, it wasn't the suffocating, judgmental disdain I had endured at my high school. It was pure curiosity, mixed with undeniable awe. I had knocked out a frat brother and immediately went back to fucking my girl without missing a beat.

  I smirked, pulling Jessica tightly against my side. This chaotic, wless circle definitely suited me much better.

  We drove back to my loft first. Jessica took a quick shower, scrubbed the sweat and alcohol off her skin, and hurriedly packed the rest of her belongings into a duffel bag. Once she was ready, I drove her back toward the UChicago campus so she could wait on the curb for her brother, Sean.

  The drive was agonizingly quiet. I gnced over at the passenger seat. Jessica was staring bnkly out the frost-covered window, completely lost in thought.

  "What’s wrong, babe?" I asked, hating the heavy silence.

  Jessica flinched, snapping out of her daze. "Ah. Nothing, babe. It’s just… it feels really weird to leave you like this."

  She turned to look at me, and my heart sank. Her green eyes were shining with unshed tears. She reached across the center console, her cold hands wrapping tightly around my right hand on the gearshift.

  "It’s okay, Jess," I smiled softly, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles to reassure her.

  "I’m really going to miss you," her voice cracked, sounding incredibly fragile.

  "I'll miss you too. Just promise me you'll come straight back to our home the second you get back to Chicago, okay?"

  "Mm-hm. I promise." She squeezed my hand, her grip almost desperate.

  When I pulled up to the dark curb outside her old dorm building, she leaned over the console and gave me a long, bruising goodbye kiss. She stepped out into the freezing night, grabbed her bag, and walked toward the entrance. I kept the engine idling, watching her silhouette until she disappeared inside.

  **

  My loft felt like a tomb without her. It was just a massive, echoing space filled with the lingering scent of her vanil perfume.

  I grabbed a beer and sat down on the leather armchair in our "mini-library." It was a recent addition to the corner of the loft. The ridiculous truth was, we only bought the bookshelves because we had never managed to hook up in an actual campus library, so we built our own just to rolepy the fantasy. It was the second coziest spot in my loft, but it was a complete facade. It was filled with cssic literature and heavy hardcovers, but we had never actually opened a single book. We only used the space for sex.

  To numb the suffocating loneliness, I spent almost every day of Winter Break getting wasted with the Russians. I ended up sleeping on Nikoy’s couch so often that I practically learned their life stories. The fearless Draufg?ngers were actually complete contradictions:

  Nikoy, the loud, chaotic party animal, was a massive mama's boy. He would FaceTime his mother in Europe, and his eyes would legitimately water when he told her how much he missed her home cooking.Boris, the towering, terrifying human brick wall, was a massive fan of romantic dramas. He would actually cry over heartbreaking movie scenes. He unapologetically cimed that The Notebook was his favorite film and that he had watched it twenty times without getting bored.Andrew, the quiet wingman, was the true mastermind of the group. He was incredibly wealthy, a fantastic chef who kept us all fed, and possessed a seemingly infinite roster of beautiful female friends he could summon to any club. Both Nikoy and Boris deferred to his quiet judgment.I spent Christmas Day hungover on the couch, FaceTiming my family. They were spending the holidays in Spain. Julian jumped on the call, bragging in his fake posh accent that he was finishing his degree early and would be officially graduating in June. Even though we bickered constantly, I felt a strange ping of pride for my older brother. He was incredibly smart, and despite his arrogance, he actually took good care of our parents.

  On New Year's Eve, the crew dragged me to a massive underground rave. It was absolute chaos. But because Jessica wasn't there, I had zero interest in the girls swarming our VIP table. I voluntarily took over Boris's usual job. I became the designated watch guard, smoking cigarettes and keeping an eye on our coats while Boris and Andrew banged chicks in the dark corners. Nikoy spent the entire countdown dancing with a bottle of vodka before disappearing into the bathrooms with a blonde.

  I just sat there, drinking my beer, watching the clock strike midnight, wishing Jessica was sitting on my p.

  **

  The day before the Spring Semester began, a soft, familiar touch pulled me out of a deep sleep.

  I felt a pair of warm lips press gently against my forehead. My eyes fluttered open. The morning sunlight was streaming through the loft windows, illuminating the beautiful, freckled face and bright green eyes I had been missing for three weeks.

  "Good morning, Tiger," she whispered, her voice like velvet.

  "Jess?" I gasped, my brain struggling to catch up.

  I sat up and crushed her against my chest in a fierce hug. She hugged me back just as tightly, pressing a frantic kiss to my cheek.

  "Why didn't you text me you were coming back this early?" I mumbled into her ginger hair, breathing in her scent. "I would have driven out and picked you up."

  She giggled, pulling back to look at me. "I wanted to surprise you, babe."

  Without another word, she reached down, grabbed the hem of her sweater, and stripped it over her head. She kicked off her jeans, crawled under the sheets, and mounted my hips. "And I couldn't wait to ride you again. I missed you so fucking much."

  We didn't leave the bed all morning. I poured three agonizing weeks of pent-up sexual frustration and loneliness out on her, fucking her until we were both gasping for air and the sheets were soaked with sweat.

  After we finally colpsed, she kissed my chest, wrapped herself in a towel, and walked into the bathroom to shower.

  I y ft on my back, staring up at the high industrial ceiling. My body was completely rexed, and a massive wave of relief washed over me. Jessica was back. The empty tomb was a home again.

  But as the heavy fog of lust slowly cleared from my brain, a cold, sharp thought suddenly pierced my perfect bubble.

  I looked around the loft. Her clothes were scattered on my floor. Her suitcases were in my closet. We acted like a married couple behind closed doors. We spent every waking moment together.

  If she loves being here this much... why the fuck aren't we official yet?