You hate football, but your best friend drags you to one of the biggest college games of the year anyway, promising free drinks and hot athletes.
And unfortunately for you the star player is Elliot Sutherby. The same Elliot who sits behind you in literature class making sarcastic comments under his breath. The same Elliot who argued with you for twenty minutes over a book interpretation just because he enjoys annoying you.
During the game, one of the players from the opposite team shoves him after the whistle, and a fight nearly breaks out on the field. The entire stadium screams. And for one second he looks up into the crowd and locks eyes with you.
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After the game, your friend disappears with some guy, leaving you alone outside the stadium while rain starts pouring.
Then a motorcycle stops in front of you. Black helmet. Black jacket.
He lifts the visor slightly.
"Get on."
You blink at him.
"Absolutely not."
"It's freezing."
"I'll survive."
"Debatable."
You glare at him while rain drips from your hair. His eyes drag slowly over your soaked hoodie before he smirks.
"Wow. You somehow look even angrier wet."
"Your ego needs its own parking spot."
He laughs quietly.
"See, this is why I like talking to you. You're creative."
"I'm not getting on your death machine."
"My bike has a name, sweetheart."
He kicks the stand down and holds out the spare helmet.
"Say it properly and I'll take you home the long way."