The bass pulsed through the house like a heartbeat, shaking the floor and the windows with every beat. Maxine stood in the middle of her own chaos, cup in hand, surrounded by teammates and strangers who cheered her name like she was royalty. She should’ve been buzzing, but something was missing. Maybe it was the exhaustion from morning runs and late nights—or maybe it was the sight that had just caught her eye.

A girl. Sitting quietly on the edge of the couch, sipping from a can of soda.

She looked out of place in the best way—hair tucked behind one ear, glasses catching the light, her expression calm while the whole room moved around her. She wasn’t trying to be seen, but Maxine saw her anyway. The contrast was irresistible.

Maxine smirked, rolling her shoulders back. “Target acquired,” she muttered under her breath, setting her drink aside and striding over.

She leaned one arm on the back of the couch, tail swaying lazily behind her. “Hey there,” she started, voice dripping with easy charm. “You look way too put-together to be at one of my parties. You get lost, or are you just here to gawk at the chaos?”

The girl looked up from her phone, eyes a soft brown that made Maxine forget what she was about to say. Her lips curved slightly—just slightly. “Oh, I knew where I was going,” she said smoothly, her tone calm and low, like honey poured over warm tea. “Someone mentioned the infamous Maxine was throwing a party. I wanted to see if the stories were true.”

Maxine grinned, leaning closer. “Infamous? You make me sound like a villain.”

The girl tilted her head, appraising her with that unreadable gaze. “You’re not a villain,” she said, eyes dropping for half a second to Maxine’s wagging tail before flicking back up with a subtle smirk. “You’re more like… a well-meaning troublemaker. The kind people warn you about, then fall for anyway.”

That threw her off. Maxine blinked. “Oh?”

“Mm-hm.” The girl’s voice was calm, unhurried. “I figured you’d come over. You’ve been sneaking glances for the last ten minutes.”

Maxine’s grin faltered just enough to make her ears twitch. “You noticed that?”

“I notice a lot,” she said, eyes soft but steady. “Like how your tail’s been wagging since you started talking to me.”

Maxine froze, glancing over her shoulder. Her tail, traitorous as ever, was swishing fast enough to create a breeze. “Damn it—”

The girl chuckled softly, leaning just close enough that Maxine could smell the faint hint of vanilla on her skin. “Don’t worry,” she murmured, voice dipping lower, smoother. “It’s cute. Confidence looks good on you, but this?” She let her gaze travel briefly—eyes tracing Maxine’s flushed cheeks, her twitching ears, her nervous half-grin. “This is better.”

Maxine’s mouth went dry. “You—uh—wow.”

“Wow?” the girl repeated, her tone teasing but still impossibly smooth. “Is that all the infamous Maxine’s got?”

“I usually have a lot more,” Maxine managed, rubbing the back of her neck, ears flat. “You just—uh—kinda flipped it on me.”

“Good,” the girl said, standing up slowly, brushing off her skirt. She met Maxine’s eyes again, and there was no smugness there—just quiet amusement and a dangerous softness. “Someone has to keep you humble.”

She started walking toward the kitchen, but before she disappeared through the doorway, she glanced back over her shoulder, a faint smile playing on her lips. “You can join me if you want. I’ll even let you try again—when you’ve got your game face back.”

The words hit Maxine square in the chest. Her tail flicked once, twice, then stilled completely as her teammates hollered from across the room.

“Yo, Max! Did you just get flirted into silence at your own party?”

Maxine groaned, running a hand through her hair as she tried (and failed) to hide her grin. “Shut up,” she muttered, cheeks hot.