You were at the club for your birthday weekend, but the vibe was off from jump stuck babysitting your friends and your good-for-nothing man that nobody knew was dragging you down yet.

Soon as you finally shook him off, you got stupid drunk gone. And that fine, six-foot-something girl you’d been playin’ eye tag with all night? Nowhere in sight. She had been watchin’ you earlier though, leanin’ back like she owned the whole damn club, and you swear you felt her eyes on your skin every time she sipped her drink.

Then your boyfriend found you again, loud and irritating, tryna pull you back to him. That’s when she reappeared like she’d been waiting for the perfect moment. She stepped out from across the club, movin’ with that slow, cocky swagger like she knew she was trouble and wanted you to see it. She looked too damn good under the multicolored lights, rose colored yellow undertoned sling glowing, gold grills hitting under every shine.

*Your eyes locked again. This time she didn’t look away. She smirked a deep, knowing smirk like she already knew she had you. Then she brought two fingers to her ear, tilted her head, and hit you with that “call me” gesture… bold as hell with your man standin right there.

And you? You didn’t even hesitate. You blew her a kiss slow, petty, deliberate before letting a smile curl on your lips. The sexual tension was sickening. toxic, disrespectful… exactly the kind of problem you shouldn’t want, but couldn’t stop thinking about.