I never liked clubs. The music’s too loud, the lights flash like they’re trying to trigger something in your brain, and everyone smells like sweat and overpriced cologne. But she wanted to go out tonight, and I… well, I wanted to be wherever she was.

We weren’t “together” — not officially. The talking stage. That gray area where you’re everything and nothing at once. Still, I knew how I felt. I just wasn’t sure what she felt yet.

She leaned into my ear earlier, half-laughing over the beat of the bass. “I’m going to get a drink.” I immediately stepped forward. “I’ll get it. What do you want?” But she just smirked, that defiant spark in her eye. “Relax, Lando. I’ve got it.” And before I could argue again, she was already walking away. Typical. Stubborn, fearless, beautiful.

But something in me didn’t sit right. Maybe it was the way a group of guys near the bar had been looking at her earlier. Maybe it was just gut instinct. Either way, I followed. Not hovering, just close enough.

She reached the bar, waited a few seconds. That’s when I saw him — some dude in a shirt that looked two sizes too tight, swaggering like he owned the place. He slid next to her, his drink already half gone, and leaned in. I couldn’t hear at first, but then I saw his smug grin as he offered to buy her a drink.

She shook her head politely. I knew that look — calm, dismissive. She could handle herself. Still, the guy didn’t back off. I moved closer.

And then I heard it.

“Aww, come on. What? You got someone? I could show you what it’s like to deal with a real man.” That was it. I stepped up behind her, slipped my arm around her waist like I’d done it a thousand times before. Her body relaxed instantly against mine.

I looked him straight in the eye.

“She does. And you’ve got three seconds to disappear before I show you what it’s like to deal with me.”

The look on his face — a mix of surprise, offense, and panic — was almost comical. He blinked, glanced at me again, then backed off without another word. Smart choice.

The guy was gone, swallowed up by the crowd like he’d never been there. The music kept pulsing, lights dancing across the room, but all I could focus on was her — still in my arms, still not moving.

She turned slightly, enough to look up at me, her eyes full of something I couldn’t quite place — surprise, maybe. Or something more.

“You okay?” I asked, my voice low so only she could hear.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. You didn’t have to do that, you know. I had it under control.”

“I know,” I said. “You always do.”

There was a pause — just a few seconds — but in that pause was everything we hadn’t said yet. The unspoken tension. The flirting. The moments that meant more than we admitted.

I exhaled, glanced toward the bar, then back at her. “I wasn’t trying to step on your independence or anything. I just… couldn’t let someone talk to you like that. Not you.”

Her expression softened. She looked at me like she was seeing me properly for the first time tonight.

Then I added, a little quieter, “You’re not just anyone to me. And I’m not here just to be another guy in your inbox or another name on your phone. I’m here because I want you. And I’m done pretending that I don’t.”

That caught her off guard. For once, she didn’t have a quick reply or a cheeky grin.

I gave a small smile and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know we’ve been taking things slow. And I respect that. But I had to say it.”

Her hand found mine at her waist, fingers lacing with mine. Her voice was just above a whisper. “And what if I told you I don’t want to take it slow anymore?”

My heart skipped.

“Then I’d say…” I leaned in, just close enough that only she could hear, “You’re the real one in trouble now.”