The private room felt tucked away from the rest of the club. The thick door kept the music out, so inside it was all soft lights, low couches, and that easy, low-key hum you get when everyone's comfortable. Evan clearly picked the spot for privacy.
In the middle of the table sat this chunky black die, glossy and a little mysterious.
"So— Truth Dice?" Evan asked, trying to sound casual.
"yes" Rose jumped in. "Less thinking, more chaos."
Evan grinned and grabbed the die. "Rules are simple. Roll, read the matching question, answer. No skipping."
Jasmine shot him a look. "so do you care about rules?"
"Yes ,Since I'm hosting tonight," Evan shot back, not missing a beat.
She went first. Rolled a three.
She read her slip, groaned. "What's one thing you're bad at?"
"Patience," she admitted, not even pretending to think. "Especially with slow people." She glanced at Evan, and Rose cracked up.
Rose went next. Rolled a five.
"What's your most embarrassing habit?"
She hesitated, then sighed. "I still rehearse fake arguments in the shower."
"That explains the confidence," Jasime teased, she was in good mood.
Isabella's turn. She rolled a one.
"What do you secretly judge people for?"
She shrugged. "Bad music taste."
Everyone immediately erupted, protesting, talking over each other.
Evan just leaned back, clearly enjoying the chaos, then rolled. Six.
"What's the most useless talent you have?"
He didn't even blink. "Remembering random facts I'll never need."
Emily nudged him, smiling. "That's not useless. Just annoying."
Finally, Emily rolled. Two.
She read hers and relaxed. "Who here would you trust with your phone unlocked?"
She looked around, pretended to think, then nodded at Rose. "Rose. Zero chance she'd judge."
Rose beamed. "I feel honored."
No tension, no awkward pauses, nothing sharp—just laughter, a few playful digs, and that easy comfort you feel when everyone's still on the same team.
The die just sat there in the middle, waiting for the next round, as the night drifted on.
Honestly, the family angle adds something nice—keeps things soft, focuses a bit more on Evan without making the vibe too serious. Here's how the next part goes—same game, now with family questions, a little tension, but nothing heavy.
Evan tapped the table. "Alright, new rule this round," he said. "Family questions only."
Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "That sounds risky."
"Exactly," Rose said, already rolling.
She rolled a four.
She read the question. "Who in your family are you closest to?"
"My mom," Rose said right away. "She calls me three times a day. If I miss one, she's convinced I've been kidnapped."
Everyone cracked up.
Jasmine rolled a two.
"What family expectation do you secretly hate?"
She didn't even pause. "Marriage timelines. Apparently, I'm already behind." She rolled her shoulders, acting like it didn't bother her, but Emily caught that quick flash of irritation.
Isabella rolled a six.
"Who in your family knows the real you best?"
She thought for a second. "My older brother. He doesn't say much, but he notices everything."
Very Isabella.
Then Evan reached for the die.
It clattered and landed on one.
He read the question and gave a short laugh. "What's one thing your family doesn't know about you?"
Emily saw him shift—just a little, nothing dramatic.
"They think I've got my future sorted," Evan said with a half-smile. "Career, plans, all of it."
Jasmine tilted her head. "Parents?"
"Dad, mostly," Evan said. "He likes certainty."
Emily squeezed his hand under the table—quick, hidden.
Her turn again.
She rolled a three.
"Which family member do you avoid disappointing the most?"
She didn't hesitate. "My father. Even when he says he doesn't mind, I know he does."
The room went quiet—not heavy, just thoughtful for a second.
The die stayed between them, not really a joke anymore, but not a threat either. Family's just like that—always there, even when you're trying to keep things light.
Evan leaned back, let out a breath. "Alright," he said, breaking the mood, "next round—no family, no trauma."
"Coward," Jasmine said, grinning.
He grinned back. "Survivor."
And the game kept going.The laughter finally faded, leaving everyone smiling but tired.
"Alright," Evan said, stretching as he got up. "Dorm time. If we're late, we're dead."
Chairs scraped softly as people gathered their bags. Evan jingled his keys, already stepping away from the group.
"I'll pull the car around," he added.
Footsteps drifted down the path, voices fading as the night air settled in.
A moment later, Evan's car rolled up, headlights cutting through the quiet. The campus lights looked kind of dreamy in the distance.
"All aboard," Evan called, easygoing as always.
Rose hopped in first. Isabella and Emily followed. Evan was about to shut the door when Rose suddenly frowned. "Wait… where's Jasmine?"
They all glanced around.
Jasmine stood off to the side, staring at her phone.A new message popped up.
Silvercrest Hotel. Lobby. I'll catch up. — Evan
She froze, read it twice, then slipped the phone into her purse and headed toward the hotel lobby.Then she tucked her phone into her purse, smoothed her dress.
Rose leaned out the window. "Why aren't you getting in?"
Jasmine flashed a small smile. "My cousin's in town tonight. I'm crashing at her place."
Rose dragged out her answer. "Ohhh. Okayyy."
Evan paused, keys dangling from his fingers. "Want a ride over there first? Then we'll head to the dorm."
Rose shook her head fast. "No, don't bother. Her place is the other way, past University Road. If you do that, we'll never make it before the dorm gates close."
Evan thought about it, then nodded. "Alright. Be safe, okay?"
"Always," Jasmine said, waving.
Rose added, "Text if anything comes up."
Jasmine smiled again. "I will."
Evan started the car, and they pulled away, heading for university town. No one bothered with music. The engine hummed, streetlights flickered by, and everyone just settled into the quiet.
About fifteen minutes later, the girls' dorm showed up ahead.
Rose and Isabella climbed out first.
"Thanks, Evan," Rose said, cheerful as ever. "Tonight was awesome."
"Yeah," Isabella echoed, a little softer. "Thanks."
They walked toward the dorm, their voices and footsteps fading away.
Emily hung back by the car. Her fingers tapped the door handle, but she didn't open it.
Evan noticed. "You not going in?"
She looked up, eyes a little distant. "Just… give me a minute."
Emily spoke up at last, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Thanks, Evan… for tonight."
He grinned. "Anytime."
She paused—a little nervous, maybe—then leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. It was brief, a little bashful, but it said more than words ever could.
Evan didn't flinch. Instead, he pulled her into a hug, holding her close, steady and warm. After a moment, he kissed her back—slow and easy, like they both wanted to stay in this moment just a little longer.
When they finally let go, Emily leaned her forehead against his chest.
"Goodbye," she murmured.
Evan traced his thumb along her hand. "Get inside ."
She nodded, stepped away, and watched as he slid into his car. The engine came to life, headlights slicing through the darkness.
Emily turned for the dorm, heart pounding—
and Evan pulled away, both of them leaving something unsaid in the cool night air.
Evan left Emily and the others behind and headed for the far side of campus, steering clear of the dorms this time. Twenty minutes later, he parked in front of The Silvercrest Hotel.
Inside the lobby, Jasmine sat on a sofa, ramrod straight, wringing her hands. Every few seconds, she glanced at the entrance, almost like she was willing Evan to appear. When he finally walked in, she let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding.
Evan didn't waste any time. He went right up to the front desk and booked the presidential suite. The receptionist looked up—and kind of stared. Evan didn't fit the picture: too young, too laid-back, didn't have that air of someone who'd grab the best room in the place just because he could.
"Yes, sir," she said, snapping back to herself. "Everything's set."
Evan nodded, quick and easy. "Thanks."
When he turned around, he caught Jasmine's eye and gave her a quick signal.
She stood right away and followed him.
As they headed for the elevators, the receptionist watched them go, still trying to wrap her head around the whole thing.
They stepped into the elevator, one after the other. The doors slid shut, and for a moment, it was just the two of them and the soft hum of the elevator as it climbed.
On the 38th floor, the elevator stopped. Evan led the way down the hall, stopped at Room 3803, and swiped his key card.
The lock clicked open.He looked at Jasmine, a silent invitation in his eyes.She stepped inside without a word.
The moment she crossed the threshold, Evan closed the door behind her—slow, deliberate—and turned the lock.
The click echoed softly through the room.
The door clicked shut. Evan dropped onto the sofa and let his shoulders relax, soaking in the silence. He barely had a chance to settle in when someone knocked softly at the door.
He glanced over at Jasmine. She caught his look right away, straightened up, and headed for the door.
"Who is it?" she called out.
"Room service," came the answer from the hall.
Jasmine shot Evan a quick questioning look. He gave her a small nod.
She opened the door. A room service attendant stood there, holding a silver tray with a dark green bottle of Château Margaux and two sparkling wine glasses.
"Your wine, ma'am," he said, polite and a bit stiff. "Order just came in."
Jasmine looked surprised for a second but stepped aside so he could come in.
The attendant set the tray on the table and turned to Evan. "Shall I open it for you, sir?"
Evan nodded.
The cork popped out with a soft sound. The attendant poured the wine, halfway in each glass—steady hands, no rush.
"Anything else, sir?"
Evan shook his head. "No, thanks. That's all."
The man nodded, straightened his jacket, and let himself out. The door closed quietly behind him.
Evan picked up a glass, gave the wine a slow swirl, and took a sip. He paused, then let out a small, crooked smile.
"Good," he muttered. "Now I get why it costs so much."
He set the glass back down, finally looking right at Jasmine.
The room suddenly felt even quieter.
Evan leaned back against the sofa, arms crossed, eyes sharp but with a hint of mischief.
"So tell me," he said, voice almost teasing, "why'd you spend dinner trying to seduce me?"
Jasmine didn't jump right in with an answer. She just smiled—slow, careful, almost like she was weighing her options.
That smile wiped the grin right off Evan's face. Suddenly, he was all business.
"What do you actually want, Jasmine?"
He locked eyes with her. "You know I'm with Emily."
Jasmine froze, just for a second. She got it—this wasn't a game anymore.
"I want you," she said, finally. "I want you to be my boyfriend."
Evan just stared at her, then let out a laugh.
"You?" he said, shaking his head.
"I already have Emily. She's the campus queen. Everybody wants her."
He gave Jasmine a quick once-over, not even trying to hide his doubt.
"And you really think you stack up? You don't."
That one stung.
Jasmine's jaw clenched. "If that's true, why were you flirting with me?"
Evan's smile disappeared.
"You started it," he shot back. "I just played along."
He stepped in, voice dropping lower.
"So I'll ask one more time—what do you want from me?"
Before she could answer, he cut in, sharp this time.
"Don't forget this. Emily's my girlfriend."
Silence. Heavy, awkward.
Jasmine breathed in and out. Something changed in her eyes—not doubt, just resolve.
She looked him right in the face.
"I want the life you give Emily," she said.
"The comfort. The security. The status."
Evan looked at her differently now. No trace of the old sneer or the smug smile.
"What can you give me?" he asked, quiet but steady.
Jasmine didn't bother with words. She turned a little, letting her confidence do the talking, her fingers moving with purpose.
The air in the room felt different—tense, electric, impossible to ignore.
Evan couldn't help but watch, caught off guard even now.
Finally, he let out a breath, a half-smile flickering.
"…Go take a shower," he said, voice calm but loaded.
The meaning between them was crystal clear.
*******