The kitchen was a warm hub of morning chaos, sunlight streaming through the windows and glinting off the stainless steel appliances. Alex sat at the table, nursing a mug of coffee, his plate piled with scrambled eggs and toast. The move to his aunt Katheryn's house had thrown him into a new rhythm—living with her, his cousin Warren, and Warren's older sister Taylor was a stark contrast to his quiet life back home. Last night's restless thoughts lingered, but he pushed them down, focusing on the clatter of dishes and the smell of bacon sizzling on the stove.
Katheryn moved with effortless grace, her sundress hugging her curves as she flipped bacon in the skillet. At 38, she was striking—long auburn hair in a loose ponytail, green eyes bright with warmth that made Alex feel at home yet subtly unsettled. As Warren's mom and his aunt, she was the heart of the household, but her presence stirred something in him he tried to ignore. "Morning, boys," she said, setting the bacon on the table. "Big day, Alex? First full week of college?"
Warren, sprawled across from Alex, was already halfway through his eggs. His cousin, a year older, had the build of a linebacker, with tousled brown hair and a grin that screamed confidence. "Yeah, man," Warren said, pointing his fork at Alex. "Lunchtime hoops today. You ready to show those guys up?"
Alex nodded, forcing a smirk despite the knot of nerves in his stomach. Back home, he'd owned the basketball courts, but this was a new school, new crowd. "Ready as I'll ever be," he said, sipping his coffee.
Taylor sauntered in, her blonde hair cascading down her back, her yoga pants and fitted tank top showing off a body honed by years of fitness. At 25, Warren's older sister was a force, her presence electric. She grabbed a smoothie from the fridge, her movements fluid. "Morning, losers," she teased, winking at Alex. "Kath, you dropping these clowns off?"
Katheryn nodded, pouring herself coffee. "Work's light today, so yeah. Alex, eat up—you've got a long day."
Breakfast was a lively affair. Warren rambled about a group project for his sociology class, complaining about a teammate who'd ghosted their planning session. Katheryn shared a story about forgetting her lines in a college theater production, making everyone laugh. Taylor, scrolling through her phone, tossed in a quip about her boss at the part-time barista gig she worked to cover grad school expenses. Alex listened, trying to focus, but he couldn't help noticing how Katheryn's dress inched up when she bent to grab a dish, or how Taylor's tank clung to her as she stretched. He shifted in his seat, forcing his eyes to his plate.
After breakfast, Alex helped clear the table, stacking plates in the dishwasher while Katheryn wiped down the counter. "You're fitting in already," she said, smiling. "But don't let Warren drag you into his chaos."
"Too late for that," Alex replied, earning a laugh.
The drive to campus in Katheryn's SUV was quick, the radio playing soft pop as Warren scrolled through his phone, muttering about a late assignment. Katheryn pulled into the drop-off zone, turning to them. "Have fun, you two. Alex, text if you need anything. Warren—don't skip your study group again."
Warren rolled his eyes but grinned. "Yes, Mom." Alex lingered a moment, catching Katheryn's eye in the rearview. "Thanks, Aunt Kath," he said, his voice steady despite the flutter in his chest.
She winked. "Go get 'em."
The campus was buzzing as Alex and Warren crossed the quad, students lugging backpacks or clustering in groups, some sipping coffee from to-go cups, others glued to their phones. Alex's morning was packed—intro to psychology, where the professor droned about cognitive biases, and a math lecture that left him scribbling notes to keep up. Between classes, he grabbed a bagel from the campus café, dodging a frisbee game breaking out on the lawn. Warren caught up with him, tossing him a water bottle. "You good for hoops at lunch? Jason and Fred are gonna be there—cocky as hell, but they're good."
Alex had heard about them. Jason, a senior, was tall and lean, a trash-talker with a killer jump shot. Fred, his bulkier sidekick, played defense like a tank. "Let's do this," Alex said, adrenaline kicking in.
The outdoor basketball courts were alive at lunch, a small crowd gathered around the chain-link fence. Jason and Fred were warming up, Jason sinking a flashy three-pointer, Fred slamming a dunk that rattled the rim. Jason spotted Alex and smirked. "New kid thinks he can hang?"
Alex dropped his backpack, peeling off his shirt to reveal a fitted tank top. "Let's find out."
The 3-on-3 game was intense from the start. Alex and Warren teamed with Mike, a wiry sophomore, against Jason, Fred, and another player. Jason guarded Alex tightly, his elbow digging into Alex's side on every drive. "You ain't shit, freshman," Jason taunted as Alex's first shot rimmed out.
But Alex found his groove. His quick crossover threw Jason off, and he sank a mid-range jumper, drawing cheers from the crowd. The game stayed close—Jason's long-range shots kept his team alive, while Fred's physicality tested Alex's stamina. On one play, Fred hip-checked him hard, sending him stumbling. "Stay down, kid," Fred grunted.
Alex didn't. He stole the ball next possession, drove past Fred, and laid it up, earning a roar from the onlookers. A group of girls from his psych class—cheerleaders, he figured—watched from the sidelines, whispering and giggling. One, a brunette named Isabel, clapped for him, her bright eyes locked on his. Alex felt a surge of confidence.
The game ended 21-19, Alex's team winning after he hit a clutch pull-up jumper over Jason's outstretched hand. "Not bad, new guy," Jason muttered, a hint of respect in his tone. Fred just glared, wiping sweat from his brow.
Isabel approached as they cooled off, her smile flirty. "Nice moves, Alex. Didn't know you had that in you."
He grinned, catching his breath. "Plenty more where that came from."
Warren nudged him. "Told you you'd make waves. Let's grab food."
They hit the campus dining hall, where Alex navigated the chaos of students piling trays with pizza and burgers. He and Warren sat with a few classmates, swapping stories about professors and weekend plans. Alex's phone buzzed with a group chat invite for a study session later, and he felt himself settling into the college rhythm.
By evening, the campus was quieter, most students gone. Alex and Warren headed to the library for a study group, their backpacks heavy with textbooks. As they passed a row of classrooms, Alex heard muffled sounds—a soft moan, a rustle—from one of the rooms.
"Yo, you hear that?" Warren whispered, pausing.
Alex nodded, curiosity overriding caution. "Stay here," he said, creeping toward the classroom window. The blinds were half-open, and he crouched, peering inside.
There, on a desk, was Sydney from his English class—long legs, dark hair, her skirt hiked up slightly. She was locked in a heated kiss with a guy Alex didn't know, his hands roaming her body, one sliding down to grip her ass, lifting her to press her against the desk. Sydney moaned softly, her fingers tangling in his hair, her lips moving hungrily, their tongues entwined. The sight sent a jolt through Alex, his body reacting instantly, a tightness growing in his jeans.
He couldn't look away. Sydney's moans grew louder, her body arching as the guy's hand squeezed harder. Sydney moans as her boy friend slowly moved his hands from her ass to her neck and tries to cup her breasts but Sydney stops and tells him not now and he complains how he never got to touch them and again starts kissing her mouth and they tounge fight while that guy squeezes her ass. Alex's breath hitched, arousal mixing with guilt. He shouldn't be watching, but he was frozen.
The evening bell rang, sharp and jarring. Sydney and her boyfriend froze, then scrambled to fix their clothes. Alex ducked, heart pounding, and slipped into the next classroom, pressing himself against the wall. Through the crack in the door, he saw Sydney smooth her skirt, cheeks flushed, and walk out like nothing happened. Her boyfriend followed, muttering about "later."
Alex waited, his body buzzing, before rejoining Warren. "What was it?" Warren asked.
"Nothing," Alex lied, his voice tight. "Just… some janitor."
Warren shrugged, and they headed out, the campus now dusk-lit. Alex's mind replayed Sydney's moans, her body against the desk, stirring a mix of desire and determination. He wanted her, and he'd figure out how.