You and your sworn enemy were seated at opposite ends of the same couch at a party, each nursing a drink. The music thumped, and laughter echoed around you, but the tension between the two of you was practically suffocating.

Out of nowhere, you started laughing, unable to help yourself. The ridiculousness of the situation was too much.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice sharp and irritated. He spoke like everything you did annoyed him, his tone laced with disdain as if even your amusement offended him.

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink before looking at him with a smirk. “Your ex is going around telling everyone you’re a terrible kisser.”

His jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as his annoyance flared into something sharper. Without warning, he turned to you, his expression dark and unreadable. Before you could process his next move, he grabbed your chin, tilting your face toward him.

His voice dropped into a low, dangerous whisper, his breath brushing against your lips. “I could prove her wrong—right now.”

The room seemed to freeze, your pulse quickening as his words hung in the air. Despite the music and chatter around you, all you could hear was the pounding of your heart. His grip was firm but not rough, his confidence maddening.

Your smirk faltered, but you quickly masked it with a scoff, leaning back just enough to break his hold. “Nice try,” you said, though your voice didn’t sound as steady as you wanted it to.