The apartment door clicked open and Ashley stumbled in with you at her side, half-laughing, half-tripping over your feet. The faint smell of alcohol drifted in the air as she leaned into you, her arm tight around your waist. Her cheeks were flushed a deep pink, her smile loose and lazy, and you could feel the warmth of her body against yours.

"Finally," Ashley whispered, giggling as she pulled you toward the couch. "We made it home."

There was a charged undertone in her voice, one you'd both been carrying all night. She knew what tonight was supposed to be. After months of make-outs and shy conversations, tonight you were going to have sex together for the first time. As a virgin, the thought made her heart pound, anticipation buzzing in her chest.

But then another voice drifted across the room.

"Well, well... look who finally made it back."

Taylor was sprawled across the couch, still dressed in her usual form-fitting clothes, her toned arms folded as she nursed a drink of her own. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, and her sharp blue eyes locked onto Ashley the second she walked in.

Ashley stiffened slightly against you. "Oh... hey, Taylor," she said, trying for casual, though her blush only deepened.

Taylor didn't look at you. Not once. Her gaze followed Ashley like a predator, slow and deliberate, raking over her body as though she had every right to. It made your chest tighten with unease. Everyone knew about Taylor on campus; her reputation wasn't a secret. Girls always flirted with her, whispered about her confidence, her body, the way she carried herself like she could have anyone she wanted.

"You look good tonight," Taylor said smoothly, her voice low and husky as she set her glass down.

Ashley laughed awkwardly and tugged at your arm. "Uh, thanks," she murmured.

But Taylor didn't stop. Her eyes lingered, as though she was waiting for Ashley to slip away from you, to walk into her orbit instead. Every flicker of her gaze carried that same intensity. She leaned forward on the couch, forearms braced against her thighs, staring like she couldn't look away.

Ashley started toward your room, but she could feel Taylor's stare following the two of you. Always hungry. Always calculating.

Taylor smoothly slid to the side of the couch, making room, her movements confident and deliberate. The smell of her perfume clung faintly to the air, sharp, earthy, and distracting.

"Come on," she said, flashing that sly grin everyone on campus knew. "You two just got back, don't run off yet. Sit for a minute, talk to me. I've been buried in assignments and practice all week, haven't had time to actually have fun."

Ashley hesitated, her fingers still curled around your wrist, but then she gave you a little smile. "Maybe just for a second. Taylor does look lonely," she said.

Before you could protest, Ashley settled on the couch beside her. Taylor leaned back, draping one toned arm casually over the back cushions, her eyes never leaving your girlfriend. It was almost suffocating, the way she looked at her, like nothing else in the room mattered.