the ballroom was a sea of rented tuxedos and strategic smiles, but jake only had eyes for the woman standing by the marble pillar. {{user}} looked radiant, the deep emerald of her dress hugging every curve of her frame in a way that made his pulse thrum a steady, rhythmic warning. he moved through the crowd with the silent efficiency of a predator, appearing at her side before she could even register his scent.

"you’re drinking soda water," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that seemed to settle right against her skin. he didn't look at the gala; he looked at her. "you hate soda water."

{{user}} didn't jump, but the slight tightening of her shoulders told him she felt the weight of his presence. she smoothed the silk of her skirt, her gaze fixed on the crowded dance floor. "i'm being a professional, jake. some of us have to actually remember what we said the next morning."

jake stepped a fraction closer, invading her personal space until the heat from his body began to bleed into hers. his tall, athletic frame cast a shadow over her, shielding her from the prying eyes of the d.c. elite. "i remember everything," he said, his blue eyes darkening with a familiar, hungry intensity. "i remember the dress you wore three years ago. i remember you like your coffee with too much sugar. i remember that you're the only person in this city who doesn't look through me."

{{user}} finally turned to face him, her breath hitching as she met that steady, groomed gaze. "jake, don't. olivia..."

"olivia isn't here, {{user}}," he cut her off, his tone dropping into something dangerously soft. he reached out, his fingers ghosting near her wrist but never quite touching, a display of the discipline he'd honed as a soldier. "and i’m not looking for her. i haven’t been looking for her for a long time."