Chapter 1: The Unexpected Dive
I’m Riley Voss, a 20-year-old college junior with a knack for landing in the most absurd situations. I’m not clumsy, mind you—I’m just... gravitationally challenged when it comes to certain anatomical regions. Specifically, women’s rear ends. Don’t ask me how or why, but my face has an uncanny habit of finding itself nestled between a pair of buttcheeks at the most inconvenient times. It’s like my personal curse, or maybe a cosmic prank. Either way, it’s my reality, and I’ve learned to roll with it—or, well, face-plant with it.
Today started innocently enough. I was in the campus library, cramming for a psych exam, when I spotted Tara, the captain of the women’s rugby team. She’s all muscle and sass, with a smirk that could melt steel and an ass that could probably bench press me. I’ve had a crush on her since freshman orientation, but I’ve never had the guts to say more than ‘hi’ without tripping over my own tongue.
‘Hey, Riley, you drooling over Freud or me?’ Tara’s voice cut through my thoughts as she leaned over the table, her tight jeans hugging every curve. Her hazel eyes glinted with mischief.
I snapped my textbook shut, cheeks flaming. ‘Freud’s got nothing on you, Tara. But I’m pretty sure he’d have a field day with my... uh, situational issues.’
She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. ‘Situational issues? What, you got a phobia of footnotes now?’
I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck. ‘Nah, more like a magnetic pull to disaster. Let’s just say I’ve got a track record of getting too close for comfort.’
Tara grinned, stepping closer. ‘Oh, I’ve heard the rumors, Voss. Face-first into trouble, huh? Sounds like a story I’d like to test.’
Before I could respond with something witty—or at least semi-coherent—she turned to grab a book from the shelf behind her. That’s when it happened. My chair wobbled, I lurched forward to steady myself, and boom—my face was buried right between her gloriously toned cheeks. Time slowed. I could feel the heat of her through the denim, the firmness pressing against my nose, and for a split second, I forgot how to breathe.
‘Well, damn, Riley,’ Tara said, not even flinching as she glanced over her shoulder. ‘You weren’t kidding about getting close. You trying to make this a contact sport?’
I scrambled back, mortified, wiping my face as if I could erase the last ten seconds. ‘I swear, Tara, I didn’t mean to—my balance is just—’
‘Relax, nerd,’ she interrupted, turning to face me with a wicked smile. ‘I’ve had worse tackles on the field. But if you’re gonna dive in like that, least you could do is buy me a coffee first.’
My heart was pounding, but I matched her grin. ‘Deal. But only if you promise not to turn around mid-sip. I might not survive another collision.’
She laughed, low and husky, and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the library exit. ‘Come on, crash-landing. Let’s see if you’re as bold off the field as you are on it.’
We ended up at her dorm room instead of the campus café, the air between us crackling with unspoken tension. She kicked the door shut behind us, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my knees weak. ‘So, Riley,’ she purred, stepping closer until I could feel the heat radiating off her. ‘You gonna keep playing shy, or are you ready to tackle me for real?’
I smirked, my confidence surging. ‘Oh, I’m ready. But don’t cry foul when I take you down.’
Her hands were on my waist in an instant, pulling me against her as our lips crashed together. The kiss was hungry, desperate, and I could feel myself getting wet already, my body aching for more. Her fingers slid under my shirt, teasing the skin of my lower back, while I grabbed her hips, feeling the power in her frame. We stumbled toward her bed, shedding clothes with reckless abandon, and I knew this was about to be one hell of an explosive play.
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