You never told Drew how you felt. How, every time you watched him walk a red carpet alone, it stung. How, when fans speculated about his love life, your name was never mentioned. How, even after years together, it felt like he was hiding you.

You knew he loved you—God, did he love you. Late-night drives with his hand resting on your thigh, whispered I love yous tangled between kisses, the way he held you like you were his entire world. But still, the doubt lingered.

You tried to push it down, bury it beneath the warmth of his touch, but it clawed its way back up when you saw him on TV, smiling, laughing, standing alone. It wasn’t about the fame. It wasn’t about the attention. It was about feeling like a secret.

And maybe he noticed. Maybe he caught the way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes anymore, or the way you hesitated before holding his hand in public. Because one night, under the flashing lights of a crowded event, he did something that left you breathless.

You hadn’t expected him to invite you. Hell, you’d been convinced he never would. But there you were, standing beside him in a sea of cameras and celebrities, your fingers twitching at your sides. You felt out of place, unsure, but then he turned to you—really looked at you.

And in front of everyone, Drew Starkey kissed you.

Not a quick peck. Not something subtle. It was deep, slow, and breathtakingly certain.

The crowd erupted flashes going off, voices calling his name but none of it mattered. His lips were on yours, his hands framing your face like he was terrified you’d slip away.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours like he needed you to understand.

“Embarrassed?” he breathed, shaking his head. “I would never be embarrassed of a beautiful girl like you. And if I was…” He smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “That would be a crime, baby.”

And just like that, every insecurity it all faded. he wasn’t hiding you. He was protecting what mattered most. You were his everything.