I had to go to Jed and Montana's apartment alone tonight. Emelia was spending the long weekend at her family's lake house in Door County, Wisconsin, so it was just me and my steely wits.

According to Emelia, the only time Montana permitted Jed to host a party was for what he called "back to school night," as in one final celebration before Jed resumed wrangling third graders on a daily basis.

But while it was Jed's party, I knew full well that Montana would be present. He'd even texted me earlier to remind me of the party's start time, as if I would've forgotten otherwise.

After being buzzed in and directed to the elevator bank by the doorman, I allowed myself a moment of reflection. As a perpetual overthinker, I'd learned a few tricks of how to avoid overthinking. My favorite trick was to distract myself, and the campaign proved to be the perfect distraction. I'd worked longer hours than usual, and thus hadn't had time to dissect what had happened between us at my birthday.

Montana and I hadn't even discussed the kiss, at least not explicitly.

And while I classified myself as an overthinker, I wasn't someone who needed constant validation. This wasn't the first time I'd kissed a friend, though I wasn't sure if I'd ever labeled Montana as a friend before I started to question whether he might be something more.

And that was what I allowed myself to reflect on before the doors opened on the fifth floor. I stepped off with no sense of clarity, but resigned myself to just having a fun Saturday night.

I checked the address Montana had sent me for the umpteenth time before knocking on the apartment door. The hallway was relatively quiet, so music seeped through the undetectable crack at the bottom.

I had just flicked off a rogue piece of lint from my black criss-cross halter top when Jed flung the door open. His jaw promptly dropped.

After casting a glance over my shoulder to ensure I wasn't about to get murdered by an axeman, I addressed Jed's apparent surprise with nonchalance.

"Hey, Jed."

Jed slid the flashing light-up glasses he wore down the bridge of his nose, sending a multitude of colored circles bouncing off the narrow walls of the foyer. He stared at me for a long moment, long enough for me to overhear the lyrics of the only Swedish House Mafia song I knew, before yanking me into a one-arm hug.

"You're here!"

I chuckled, and gave his shoulder a friendly pat as I pulled away. "I'm supposed to be, right?"

Jed grinned. "I knew you got my invite, but I wasn't sure if you actually liked to hang out with us when Em's not around."

The ease with which he spoke was enough to convince me that Montana had kept our kiss between us. I didn't know if I should be relieved or flattered. Maybe it was some combination of both.

Meanwhile, I scoffed, almost impressed by Jed's candor, and lifted the tall wine bag I'd brought with me. "I come bearing gifts. Wine and tequila."

Jed put a hand over his heart as he grinned. "Aw, you didn't have to...but we'll obviously drink it."

Obviously.

Jed graciously took my jacket and instructed me to keep my shoes on for safety purposes as we made our way into the open-floor-plan apartment. Upon arriving in the kitchen, Jed introduced me to his esteemed colleagues. They were all around our age, and evidently shared Jed's enthusiasm for both teaching and partying before the start of the school year.

Jed slung a muscular arm around my shoulder. "Kiernan brought tequila!"

Amy, another third grade teacher, laughed. "No wonder Jed wanted you to show up."

Jed laughed as he removed his arm, and displayed the bottle of Olmeca Altos on the island. "Do you mind rallying Montana so we can do a round?"

"Not at all," I said, careful not to sound too eager.

The apartment was reasonably spacious for a two-bedroom bachelor pad, but the hardwood floors and big windows made it feel airier. The kitchen was all chrome appliances and impeccably clean, despite the beverages scattering the rectangular island that people had gathered around.

I located Montana at the far end of the sitting area. He sat brooding in the lone black armchair positioned beside an open window with Rudy slumped on the floor in front of him.

As I approached him, he glanced up from his phone and shifted forward in his seat. There was nothing inherently stylish about dark wash jeans and a crisp white t-shirt, but Montana could still probably stroll into a Michelean Star restaurant and not draw any complaints. He wore his baseball cap backwards, but I recognized it as the navy one he'd bought on the way out of Wrigley Field.

"I like the hat."

"Saves me the trouble of stealing someone else's," he smirked with a casual shrug.

Rudy harrumphed and pawed my trainer. I glanced down to see him looking up at me with needy brown eyes.

Obliging with the dog's silent request for affection, I crouched down to scratch behind his floppy ears. "Jed's requesting your presence for a round of tequila," I said, and met Montana's gaze as I continued to pet Rudy.

"We don't have tequila," he replied in a deadpanned tone.

I stood up and gave a tiny, performative bow. "I brought it."

Montana leaned to his right to look past me and into the kitchen. "I don't want to go over there. They're nuts."

I glanced over my shoulder to see Jed still stationed at the island, cutting limes and laughing at something Amy said. When I turned back to Montana, I did so with my eyes narrowed in skepticism. "They teach third and fourth grade."

Montana huffed out a sigh. "Well, last year, there was this whole elaborate ice luge thing and then everyone got so bombed we forgot about it and it melted on my counter and warped my floors and I had to call a floor specialist-"

I set a hand on his shoulder. "Enough. There doesn't look to be an elaborate ice luge thing in your kitchen, just the tequila I brought and Jed's harmless colleagues."

"You don't know them," Montana insisted. "This will go from 0 to 100 very quickly which is why I'm not drinking. Someone has to supervise."

"You didn't need to invite me if all you were planning to do tonight was conduct sober supervision," I said lightly as I sat down on the wide arm of the chair. As I looked over at him, I had to make an active effort not to be drawn closer to him by the warm notes of his cologne.

"I invited you because I wanted you to be here," he said with a resigned sigh. "But I can also supervise on my own, ya know. I have Rudy as backup." He patted the dog's head.

I held his gaze for a moment before deciding I wasn't responsible for entertaining him. "Okay, suit yourself."

I hopped off the arm of the chair and before I could step away, his hand closed around my wrist. Heat shot up my arm.

A soft smile graced his lips. "Hey, ask me again in an hour."

"No promises."

･:*˚:✧｡｡✧:˚*:･

Amy was my new best friend. She also happened to be a fan of tequila, and a no-nonsense yet mellow personality that I figured kept her third graders in line.

As Amy cut up more limes with sous chef level precision, my gaze wandered to the opposite end of the kitchen, where Jed was doing a poor job of keeping his voice down.

"Montana Warren Bennett, I will call your mother and tell her that you've grown into the worst kind of party-pooper."

"There's more than one kind?" Montana sounded bored in his response. "Enlighten me, what kind am I?"

"The kind who wants to have fun, but won't let himself!" Jed practically bellowed, and rattled Montana's shoulders with his massive hands.

Montana groaned and pulled away, but Jed continued his tirade.

"Tonight of all nights should motivate you to–"

"End it." Montana bolted upright. "End it right there, or you're sleeping outside."

Amy poked my shoulder. "Hello? I said your tequila shot is ready."

My attention snapping back to Amy. Between the music and my strategic-yet-accidental eavesdropping, I'd missed her initial comment entirely.

"Thanks, sorry," I sighed and shook my head. "Jed is just super loud, and..."

Amy's gaze skated over to where Jed stood with Montana, and surrendered a sneaky smile. "So how long have you and Montana been seeing each other?"

I made a sound that hopefully passed as a dismissive scoff. "We're not."

"Huh," she huffed out. "I guess I'm not as perceptive as I used to be. I swear I could sniff out romantic subplots in college."

"There's no subplot," I said, straight up lying to my new best friend. To distract myself from my guilty conscience, I started methodically sprinkling salt onto the back of my hand.

Meanwhile, Amy seemed beyond the point of needing salt or lime as she threw back her shot with ease.

"That breaks my heart," she pouted after setting her shot glass down on the counter. "And that's coming from someone who has third-graders confessing their adorable little crushes to me on a weekly basis."

I nodded thoughtfully before bringing the back of my salted hand up to my mouth when someone held my wrist.

"Wait."

It was Montana.

"Your timing is horrible." I nodded at the line of salt.

Montana released my wrist and reached for one of Amy's pre-poured tequila shots - one with the Cubs logo on it. Figures.

"I beg to differ."

"Well, you need to use salt too. Don't make this weird for me."

My classy vernacular seemed to have abandoned me. At least I didn't have any policy-heavy speeches to write tonight or tomorrow.

"I'm not," Montana insisted. "Not intentionally, anyway."

"Then you best get it together." I paused and peered over at Amy. "Isn't that right, Amy?"

Her comically betrayed expression suggested the obvious - she most definitely knew I'd lied about the romantic subplot.

"Don't let me down," she said, pointing at Montana. "I'm invested."

Montana seemed willing to humor both of us and tipped a bit of salt onto the back of his hand. "Do I even want to know?"

"Just take your shot. I've waited long enough."

I pried my eyes away from his long enough to endure what I told myself was my last shot for a while. Montana then stated he needed to play catch-up, and threw himself into a game of Battleship with Jed, featuring more tequila shots.

I was perfectly content to sit on the floor beside the coffee table to observe the game and give my liver a reprieve. Aside from the handful of tequila shots I took with Amy, I'd relied on my trusted Pinot Grigio to get me to a content state of inebriation.

After the game, the small crowd around the coffee table had mostly dispersed, and Montana returned to the kitchen with Jed to get another drink. I watched on, but started to feel myself getting antsy once Amy rejoined some of her colleagues.

My overthinking-prone mind had shifted into overdrive now that I'd sat, anticipated, and waited for something to happen. That something didn't need to be monumental, but it needed to be enough to convince me that I wasn't deluding myself into believing that my kiss with Montana wasn't just a kiss.

"You're thinking so loud."

Montana had returned, fully invading my thoughts about Montana. A part of me wanted him to know that, and that part took initiative.

"If you're a mind reader you should've warned me. I would've been more careful...or not so careful." I held his blue-eyed gaze for a deliberately long moment. "Take your pick."

Montana undoubtedly deciphered my delicate proposition as he set a half-empty bottle of Pinot Grigio on the table in front of me. "Be as careless as you want."

There was something effortlessly deliberate about how he moved to sit on the sectional directly behind me.

I saw no point in overthinking my next move. I shifted just enough to have his shins press against my back, and he seemed to anticipate the motion as he swept my hair off to one side to avoid getting caught in between.

I eased into him. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"Well it's September, and I told you I'm more charming when it gets colder."

･:*˚:✧｡｡✧:˚*:･

sar [w1ldflow3r]: drop an emoji if you agree that montana is getting progressively more charming !

(because i do xx)