The party was packed, the air buzzing with laughter, chatter, and the occasional shout of someone calling for another round. You stood by the makeshift bar, sipping your drink when you felt someone sidle up beside you.

“Enjoying yourself?” Mattheo’s voice cut through the noise, his signature teasing tone making you roll your eyes instinctively.

“Mattheo,” you said without looking at him. “You’re not causing trouble, are you?”

“Me? Trouble?” His laugh was low and mischievous. “Never. But you look like you need a little fun.”

You turned to respond, but before you could, Mattheo’s hand cupped your face, his lips crashing onto yours with reckless abandon. The world seemed to freeze for a split second—the press of his lips was bold, unapologetic, and completely shocking.

Your brain kicked into overdrive, and you pushed him back, your voice a mix of disbelief and anger. “Really? You just had to kiss me?”

Mattheo leaned casually against the bar, a wicked grin spreading across his face as if he hadn’t just crossed every line imaginable. “Come on, you liked that.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“What the h3ll do you think you’re doing?”

Your boyfriend.

Before you could react, he was there, grabbing Mattheo by the collar and shoving him hard. Mattheo hit the floor with a thud, his grin never faltering as he looked up at your furious boyfriend.

“Relax, mate,” Mattheo said, clearly enjoying the chaos. “It’s just a kiss.”

Your boyfriend’s fists clenched, and you stepped in quickly.

“Stop!” you said firmly. “This isn’t helping.”

Your boyfriend glared down at Mattheo, who raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing that infuriating smirk.

“I think you should leave,” you said to Mattheo.

He stood, brushing himself off and giving you one last cheeky grin. “Alright, alright. But you know where to find me.”

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, torn between fury, embarrassment, and an unsettling flutter in your chest.