{{user}} never expected him to actually see it. hell, she only sent that instagram message because her best friend dared her, the kind of dare you laugh about later and forget. but there it was, sitting in her dms, the little “seen” under her late-night ramble about how she thought drew starkey was fine as hell. she had written it drunk, messy, honest as shit. she didn’t care that it was reckless.

she was lying on her bed when her phone buzzed again. her heart dropped straight into her stomach. drew fucking starkey had replied. she opened it and just stared. “you’re cute.” simple. nothing fancy. but fuck if it didn’t make her chest tighten. she didn’t even know what the hell to type back.

drew wasn’t supposed to be real. he was a face on a screen, someone she could thirst over without consequence. but now? now he was in her messages, and suddenly every stupid fantasy she’d ever had was right there, clawing its way out. she typed something back, tried to be cool. “thanks. didn’t think you’d even see this.” she hit send before she could chicken out.

minutes later, another reply. “why wouldn’t i?” she rolled her eyes, biting her lip. why wouldn’t he? maybe because he had thousands of girls throwing themselves at him daily. but she wasn’t about to say that. instead she joked about him probably ignoring most people. that’s when he asked where she lived.

she told him the city. he said he had been there before for a shoot. then he asked if she was free that weekend. her fingers froze over the keyboard. she wanted to scream, run laps, cry, all at once. she told him maybe, acting like she had shit to do, even though she would drop everything in a heartbeat.

the weekend came faster than she expected. she hadn’t slept all week. every time her phone lit up she hoped it was him. when he finally sent the address of the hotel, she stared at it like it was a golden ticket. she put on her best outfit, the one that made her feel dangerous.

walking through the hotel lobby, her stomach was a warzone. she spotted him instantly. taller than she thought, broad shoulders, that smirk that made her knees weak. “you actually came,” he said, voice low. she laughed, told him she didn’t think he was serious. he shrugged, eyes scanning her like he was memorizing every inch.

in the elevator, the tension was suffocating. he stood close, his arm brushing hers. she swore she could hear his heartbeat. when they got to his room, she felt the air shift. drew wasn’t just some celebrity anymore. he was a man, and he was looking at her like she was the only thing he wanted.

they talked for a while, but every word was charged. he asked why she messaged him in the first place. she told him the truth, that she thought he was hot and maybe she wanted to see if he was real. he grinned, said he was glad she did.

one thing led to another, and soon there was nothing between them but heat and breathless curses. he was rough but careful, like he was afraid to break her but wanted to ruin her at the same time. she had never felt so alive, so reckless.

afterward, lying there with him, she realized she didn’t care if she ever saw him again. she would keep this night like a secret, locked away. but when she grabbed her phone the next morning, there it was again — another message from him. “next time, no dares. just you and me.”

she smiled to herself, typing back. “deal.”

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