Madelyn’s birthday party was buzzing with energy, the perfect mix of casual and classy. As her best friend for over a decade, you were used to being the only non-famous person at these gatherings, but tonight felt particularly surreal. The guest list included some of Hollywood’s hottest stars, and though you tried to play it cool, you were hyper-aware of the attention to detail in your white mini dress. Backless and sleek, it made you feel confident, even if you were slightly regretting the choice of not wearing a bra.

Making your way through the crowd toward the bar, you were focused on grabbing a drink to ease the nerves. As you reached for a glass, someone turned abruptly, colliding with you. A cold splash soaked your dress instantly.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry!” came a deep voice, laced with genuine panic.

You gasped, instinctively crossing your arms over your chest as the cold sensation seeped through the now-sheer fabric. Looking up, you met the striking blue eyes of Drew Starkey, who seemed just as mortified as you felt.

“I—oh, shit,” he stammered, his gaze quickly darting away when he realized the dress was now see-through. “I didn’t mean to—damn it, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Your cheeks burned as you tried to laugh it off. “It’s fine, really. Just—uh—great timing, right?”

But Drew didn’t look convinced. He was already pulling at the hem of his shirt. “Here,” he said, yanking it over his head and handing it to you. “Put this on. Seriously.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

“Trust me,” he interrupted, his tone soft but insistent. “You’ll feel better with this on.”

Grateful and flustered, you slipped the oversized shirt over your head, Drew’s scent—something warm and clean—wrapping around you. The fabric fell just above your thighs, instantly shielding you from the prying eyes of the partygoers who’d started to notice.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, meeting his gaze again.

“No problem,” he said, his lips quirking into an apologetic smile. “I’m Drew, by the way.“