His calf muscles are ridiculous.

Sweaty arms a work of art.

He is a wet dream personified out on that playing field, and he jerked off to the thought of me the other night.

Some girls would be disgusted by the idea of their roommate fantasizing about them to wank off, but not me, not when I harbor my own dreams of him.

And there he is, looking all kinds of masculine and rugged and badass.

When I sigh out loud, I receive a few looks, giving an awkward smile back in return.

Oops.

I fiddle with my phone.

Type out a message in my group chat with Nalla and Priya.

Me: I’m at Ashley’s rugby match—have you ever been to one? This is crazy.

Nalla: I haven’t but isn’t it just like football?

Me: Um, kind of? But with no pads and they’re jumping on each other and it’s CRAZY. Someone just lost a tooth and none of them seem to care!

Me: It’s barbaric!

Priya: I dated a rugby player once. He used to pour beer into a frisbee and drink from it. That relationship didn’t last long, but he always wanted to go down on me, soooo…I stuck it out LOL.

Nalla: Those are goals.

Me: Would it be weird if I admitted right now that I’ve never had a guy go down on me?

Nalla: WHAT?!?!

Priya: Girl, you are missing out. We’ll go out this weekend and find you someone.

Me: Lol stop it, we are NOT doing that.

Priya: OH that’s right, you’re going to sit around your house waiting for your roommate to accidentally walk out of his bedroom wrapped in a towel.

Nalla: …and then tell us all about it.

The person who said girls aren’t as perverted as guys was a damn liar, because we are—at least my two new friends are, and you’d never know that by first glance at them.

Prim and proper is how I originally would have described these two. Studious. Serious.

The more I learn about them, the more I’m proven wrong.

They’re upbeat and fun. Goofy and playful.

And.

Sex positive, apparently.

Me: First of all, I would NEVER kiss and tell. Even if I was kissing.

Priya: Which you’re not because you FRIEND-ZONED YOURSELF.

Me: You can’t friend-zone yourself…can you???

Priya: Yes, you can, and you did it by moving in with the boy.

Nalla: Haha there’s nothing BOYish about Ashley Jones.

Me: And SECOND OF ALL…The odds of me seeing him naked are slim to none.

Nalla: Actually the odds are pretty high you’re going to see him naked if you’re living together—they just shot up exponentially.

Me: I DON’T WANT TO SEE HIM NAKED.

Priya: Oh. Well that’s a bummer…

Nalla: Totally.

Priya: But for real, you would tell us, right? If you kissed him?

Me: Yeah, probably LOL.

Priya: Good because we’d tell you. By the way, who’s winning the game?

Me: I think we are, it’s almost over.

Thank god.

My stomach is starting to grumble and it’s definitely nearly dinnertime and I have no idea what I’m eating. Or maybe Ashley and I can go somewhere once he’s taken a shower.

That would be nice. Then neither of us have to cook.

Or DoorDash? Be lazy and have something delivered?

My phone beeps again and I palm it, glancing down, expecting Nalla or Priya or both, smile already pasted on my face.

Those two crack me up.

I’m so happy the three of us are friends.

The notification is from a number I don’t recognize and that’s not in my contacts.

Huh.

I click it open.

212-555-9093: Georgia Parker, you are the grand prize winner of the all-expenses-paid trip to fabulous Las Vegas, courtesy of Moonlight Travel!

Another text immediately pops up.

212-555-9093: No purchase necessary. Reply YES

to redeem your prize; some exclusions apply, see terms & conditions for eligibility. To opt out of these messages, reply STOP.

Opt out?! Who in their right mind would opt out!?

I won!

I won the trip to fabulous Las Vegas!

“Holy shit!” I shout, leaping up from my seat on the bleachers, causing a few people to look around, startled.

“Did I miss something?” asks the guy who told me the score.

“No. No, I…” I stare down at my phone, dumbfounded. “Oh my god!”

Overwhelmed with enthusiasm and excitement, I do what any rational person would do—I rush the field, despite the fact that the players are still congregating near the sidelines. I have no idea whether or not the game is actually over and I don’t care, so obliviously happy and excited I start screaming Ashley’s name, arms in the air, waving frantically like a madwoman.

Waving my phone.

If this was an actual stadium on campus, security guards would be taking me down with a taser to prevent me from getting to the players and possibly doing them harm.

I’m acting crazy and I don’t care!

“I won the trip!” I shout. “Ashley, I WON THE TRIP!”

I spin in circles.

From behind me, I hear someone mutter, “Is that girl okay? She looks unstable,” but it doesn’t stop me from leaping toward my roommate.

I scream out an excited shout. “I WON!”

I close the remaining few feet; everyone is staring at me now, but I don’t care, I DON’T CARE, I DON’T CARE.

I am going to Las Vegas!

“Dude, you can’t come on the field—the game’s not over yet,” one of the guys says.

Ashley rushes over to meet me.

“Georgie, are you okay?” He’s obviously confused judging by the way he’s holding on to me and staring into my eyes—as if he’s checking for signs of a concussion.

“I won. I won the trip to Vegas!” I dance around again, his friends and teammates looking on, breathing heavy with the exertion of their sport.

I’m breathless. Ecstatic.

Ashley hesitates. “You won?”

“I won!” I say it again for about the twelfth time, the sound of it never getting old, wanting to go home and pack a suitcase right this minute.

“Holy shite, no way!”

“That’s what I said!” Why isn’t he picking me up and spinning me in circles? This is the most wonderful news! “We’re going to Vegas!”

“What’s the big fucking deal?” I overhear a few of the guys talking like I’m not three feet away. “It’s Vegas, not Bali. That chick is crazy.”

Another one says, “Is that his girlfriend?”

“I think so.”

“No dude, that’s his roommate.”

I’m hopping up and down like Tigger, and in that moment, the excitement overwhelms Ashley too. He sweeps me off my feet and spins me around—the way I had envisioned him doing.

I begin laughing as he spins me in circles, feeling myself get dizzy but for all the right reasons.

And when he starts running with me while shouting “We are going to Vegas!” at the top of his lungs? Stewart and Will and a few other guys from his team all begin chasing after us as he carries me, running the perimeter of the playing field.

Whooping and hollering.

It’s the most ridiculous wonderful feeling I’ve ever felt.

Fun.

“I’m so happy right now I could kiss you!” I laugh, arms around his neck so I don’t fall on my ass to the ground, though I don’t doubt he’s strong enough to carry me.