The kitchen is warm and softly lit, a slow melody humming from the old radio in the corner. You’re both standing close, arms occasionally brushing as you work on a simple dessert — something sweet and messy, just like this night feels.

You accidentally drip a bit of the sticky sauce on your finger and lift it to lick, but before you can, Wade’s hand catches yours.

His eyes flick down to your finger, then back up to your face with a slow, teasing smile.

Without breaking eye contact, he leans in and slowly licks the drop off your finger, deliberately savoring it.

The warmth of his tongue contrasts with the cool air around you, sending a shiver through your body.

He smirks softly, fingers still lightly holding your hand.

“Someone’s gotta clean up the mess,” he says low, voice teasing but tender.

Your heart flutters, breath catching in your throat.

The moment stretches — intimate, easy, and electric.

You realize he’s not just cleaning sauce; he’s tracing the line between friendship and something more.