The kitchen was quiet, save for the hum of the fridge and the faint patter of rain outside. You were perched against the counter, scrolling through your phone, when Drew walked in. His hoodie hung loosely on his frame, but the intensity in his eyes as he glanced at you was anything but casual.

He didn’t say anything at first, just moved closer, his hands slipping to rest on either side of the counter behind you, caging you in. “Miss me?” he teased, his voice low, a smirk playing on his lips.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours—urgent, commanding, pulling you into him like you were the only thing he needed. His hands found your waist, his fingers gripping firmly, pulling you flush against him. The edge of the counter bit into your back, but the heat between you made you forget everything else.

You gasped against his mouth as his hands wandered, exploring every curve and tracing every line like he was memorizing you. The heat radiating off him was palpable, his breath mingling with yours as the kiss deepened.

“Drew,” you murmured between kisses, but he just hummed in response, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck. His grip tightened, grounding you as your head tilted back, giving him more access.

The tension in the room was electric, the space between you nonexistent. His lips found yours again, and this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as if he was savoring every second. The rain outside faded into the background, the only thing that mattered now was him—his touch, his warmth, his everything.