I turn my nose up at the thought, dreading the flat hamburger patties and stale lettuce I’ll surely find when I get there. Chicken sounds appealing; so do a few fatty hot dogs.

I quicken my pace, not sure where this fucking joint is located; I haven’t eaten there since…well, since I stole Charlie’s food the first day we met.

Still. She’s here somewhere; I just have to…

My eyes scan the union, in search of my girlfriend, and when I find her, I weave my way through the crowded dining hall, sneaking up behind her.

Stand gazing down at the crown of her pretty blonde head. Grin as her foot impatiently taps on the tile floor, meet the eyes of the kid grilling behind the counter.

He inwardly groans, recognizing me, doing his best to ignore the furtive, hungry glances I’m making toward the chicken and burger patties sizzling on his cooktop.

Go away, dude, he’s telling me.

I don’t go away.

I’m too fucking hungry. Plus, my girl is standing here, hungry, too.

When a patty is ready, the kid palms it, slapping the chicken into the center of a bun. Closes it, wraps it securely in foil. Extends his arm, holds it over the counter and into my waiting grasp.

I snatch it, immediately unwrap it, and shove the first warm bite into my mouth.

Holy shit, it’s pretty damn good.

“Hey! What the hell—that was mine!” Charlie whips around, eyes already narrowed, daggers aimed at my chest. “You asshole!” She laughs, smacking me on the arm. “Give me a bite.”

My girlfriend opens her mouth so I can feed her.

Playfully, I turn to walk away. “You snooze, you lose.”

She grabs me by the waistband of my mesh track pants and tugs. “Oh no you don’t, pal. You owe me.”

“Owe you for what?” I take another bite, holding my hand out for the next sandwich coming off the grill then handing it to Charlie. She takes it, rising to plant a kiss on my jaw.

“You owe me an orgasm.”

“I do?”

“Have you already forgotten the last time we tried to have sex, when your roommate walked in on us?” Charlie’s brows go up as she reminds me—for the third time this week—that Rodrigo came in “looking for a pencil” while we were having sex.

“Who even uses pencils?” I muse, stuffing the chicken into my gullet.

“Exactly. Who?” Charlie drones on, walking toward the exit and pushing through the glass doors, out into the courtyard. “And the time before that, we were busted by the campus police.”

Yeah—and she’s still way too dramatic about that whole thing. It wasn’t the real police, so I don’t know what she was so upset about.

“You have to let that go.”

“Maybe, but you know what I don’t have to let go? The fact that the security guard wanted you to sign his bike helmet—and that you did sign it while we were both naked.”

“You had a shirt on.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Just a shirt, Jackson.”

“Babe, you’re hot.”

If she rolls her eyes one more time, they’re going to get stuck in the back of her head. “My bare ass was sticking to the seat.”

“My balls were sticking to the seat,” I joke.

“I would say your balls are cute, but that would be a lie.” She laughs into her bun.

“My balls are cute—what are you even talking about?”

“Newsflash, babe: no one wants to see your balls, except maybe Tyson and Carlos.”

Yeah, that’s probably true. I’ve seen enough cock and balls in the shower to last me a lifetime, but they’re always whipping that shit out.

“I love it when you say balls,” I tease her.

My girl blushes, the roots of her blonde hair turning pink.

Adorable.

Yum.

“I have to get to class, you pervert.” She hikes her backpack onto her shoulder and folds up the leftovers of her food, extending the foil package as an offering. “You want the rest of this?”

“You know it.” I take it, bending at the waist to kiss her. “But that’s not all I want.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Nope.” Her eyes close when I brush my lips over her temple. “I want to give you the jockgasms I owe you.”

“Jockgasms, eh? Is that what we’re calling them now?”

“Yup, unless you can come up with something better.”

Charlie goes up on her tippy toes, pulling me down so she can whisper in my ear. “Are you sure you can’t haul me off right now instead of making me wait?”

“You know it’s better if you have to work for it.”

“Fine. My house, nine o’clock—you can jock dirty to me then.”