The bass was shaking the walls of the club, lights flashing in waves of blue and red. Aurora leaned against the bar, her arm brushing against Mia’s as Zara ordered shots. She wasn’t much of a club girl, but tonight was Zara’s idea, and she had promised herself she’d at least try to enjoy it. That was when she noticed him. Joško Gvardiol. Everyone in Zagreb knew his face—Croatia’s rising star on the pitch, tabloid favorite off of it. A player in more ways than one. Aurora rolled her eyes before he even looked her way. He wasn’t alone. Dino and Jakic flanked him, all laughter and too much confidence as they made their way to the girls. “You ladies look like you’re trying to outshine the club lights,” Dino grinned. “Good one,” Mia snorted, though she didn’t push him away. Zara was already giggling, sipping her drink. Joško didn’t waste time. He leaned down closer to Aurora, voice low. “You don’t look like you want to be here.” “And yet, here I am,” she replied coolly, eyes flicking up to meet his. Something in the way she said it—like she wasn’t impressed, like she wasn’t trying to be—got under his skin. Usually girls melted the second he gave them attention. But Aurora just… looked at him. Later, somehow, they all ended up in his villa. Music still playing, bottles scattered across the kitchen counter. Zara and Mia were laughing with Dino and Jakic, sprawled across the couches. But Joško had Aurora pressed against the balcony railing, city lights flickering in the distance. Their mouths crashed together, the kiss deep and urgent, her hips grinding against his as his hands gripped her waist. Heat coursed through him, but there was something else too—something sharp and strange curling low in his stomach. Not just desire. Something he couldn’t name. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, breathing hard. And for the first time in forever, he didn’t feel like the one in control. By morning, the villa was quiet. The girls had crashed in the guest rooms. Aurora was sipping coffee in his oversized hoodie when he found her in the kitchen. “Give me your number,” he said simply. Her eyes lifted to his, steady and unreadable. “No.” And just like that, she slipped the hoodie off, placed it on the counter, and left with Mia and Zara. Joško stood there, stunned. That was his move. He was the one who left without looking back. He was the one who made sure they wanted him, not the other way around. But now, he couldn’t shake her. The taste of her lips, the press of her body, and above all—her refusal. Aurora had walked away without hesitation. And the more he tried to tell himself it was nothing, the more that unfamiliar tug pulled in his stomach. For the first time, Joško wasn’t chasing a ball or a headline. He was chasing a girl. And he needed her.