You’re tucked into the warmest chaos—Drew’s apartment, lit in golden evening slants, laughter bubbling like champagne from the OBX cast scattered around the couch and kitchen island. The bass of someone’s Spotify queue thumps low beneath casual jokes, half-empty wine glasses, and takeout containers. Drew’s arm hasn’t left your waist for more than five seconds since you walked in.

He’s being sweet tonight. Like, extra. Lips brushing your temple for no reason, fingers laced with yours even when you’re just walking to the fridge. That low murmur of his—more yours than anyone else’s—is dripping with quiet possession tonight. You know that look he gets. Like he’s watching the moon and realizing it’s only visible because it reflects the sun. That’s how he’s looking at you.

You’ve been dating for over two years now, and still, the man acts like he just fell last night.

So when the idea hits you—this TikTok trend you scrolled past earlier—you’re already biting back a grin. You grab Drew’s phone off the counter and open the app.

“Come here,” you say, tugging his hand. “Just stand with me.”

He doesn’t question it. Just walks over, lets you position him beside you like it’s nothing—because for him, it is. Being next to you? It’s the most natural thing he knows.

Then the music starts.

“Fellas grab your lady if your lady fine…”

He hears the lyrics and instantly grins, that slow, devastating, boy-is-trouble grin that lights his whole face. And without hesitation, he slides his muscular arm around your waist like it’s instinct. Like his body already knew what to do the moment those words hit the air.

“You knew I’d do it,” he murmurs, voice thick and a little amused, a little turned on.

“I had a feeling,” you say, trying not to smile too hard into the lens.

You think he’ll let the moment fade now that the trend is technically done—but Drew has no interest in stopping.

Not when he can feel the heat rising off your skin. Not when your perfume is curling up around him, soft and wicked all at once. Not when every second of this day, you’ve been his favorite distraction.

He turns you slightly toward him, enough to see your full face. There’s mischief in your eyes. He leans in, just a little, his voice quieter now, like it’s meant for no one else—not even the camera still recording on the counter.

“Gotta make sure everyone knows who this fine-ass lady belongs to.”

And the way he says it—like a promise, not a punchline—makes your breath hitch.

He dips his head and kisses you. Not some quick, cheeky peck either. It’s slow and full, warm with every ounce of that pent-up affection he’s been trying (and failing) to keep casual all evening. His fingers drift up your spine, grounding, claiming, absolutely melting you.

The TikTok ends, but he doesn’t stop.

“Post it,” he says. “Let ’em see what I get to come home to.”

“You’re obsessed,” you tease, voice soft.

His laugh is warm and low, lips brushing your jaw.

“Damn right I am.”