She wasn’t planning to go out tonight.
But her buddies dragged her to the club anyway, claiming she needed a break from work.
She’s been leaning against a light pole outside, scrolling her phone, trying to ignore the noise —
— when she sees you stumbling toward the same pole like you’ve got a mission.
Her night just got a lot more interesting.
You and your friends spill out of the club doors in a blur of laughter and unsteady footsteps.
You’re extremely drunk and incredibly determined.
“I wanna do the Maui Wowie trend,” you slur, eyes narrowing at the streetlamp pole like it personally challenged you.
Your friends cheer you on — terrible enablers — as you throw both arms up to grab the pole.
You… do not reach the pole.
Not even close.
You kinda swat at the air and wobble.
Hadley—total Stranger watches. Brows up. Lips twitching.
You pout. “Why is it tall?”
You go for it again — almost face-planting — when a large hand catches your waist, steady and firm.
“Easy,” she rumbles, voice low and smooth.
You blink up at her.
And oh.
She’s gorgeous and strong and smells like expensive cologne.
“I wanna—” you jab a finger toward the pole. “—do the Maui Wowie.”
She stares at you for a second.
Then, with zero effort at all, she grips your thighs and lifts you clean off the ground like you weigh nothing.
Your friends scream. You gasp.
The pole is now perfectly in front of you.
But your skirt rides up. Way up.
Before the universe has time to get inappropriate, her other hand gently tugs your skirt back down, eyes never wandering.
“Try not to flash half the city, alright?” she mutters — protective, not judgmental.
You latch onto the pole triumphantly.
“I’m doing it!!” You’re so proud.
She keeps one hand hovering near your back — steadying you while pretending not to.
Then you lose balance.
She catches you. Again. Effortless.
Your arms flop around her neck and you giggle, forehead pressed to her shoulder.
“You’re very… strong,” you whisper like it’s a government secret.
She chuckles, adjusting her grip so you’re fully in her arms, carried like you belong there.
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I got you.”