The music blasting from Charlotte’s party made the crystal vibrate. Gus was slouched on the leather sofa, an unlit cigarette between his fingers, a glass of whiskey slowly swirling in his hand. Same old boredom — until she walked in.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, straightening up.

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Tight dress. High heels. Hair pinned up in a way that showed off the neck he shouldn’t be looking at. But he looked.

She saw him. Smiled. Walked over like three years hadn’t passed. “Hey, Gus.”

He let out a short laugh. “Brat, is that you?” She raised a brow. “Still with that shitty nickname?”

Gus stood up slowly, taking a sip of whiskey. “You grew up.” His voice rough. Honest. “So did you,” she said. “Turned into one of those rich assholes who smokes at charity events?”

He laughed. “Baby, I’m the rich asshole funding the event.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re still unbearable.” “And you’re way too dangerous in that dress.”

Silence dropped for a second. The tension made everything else vanish.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “You didn’t even ask if I’m single.” “I don’t care. Not even a little.”

She stepped closer. “You’re not talking like my best friend anymore.” “Good. ’Cause I’m not looking at you like one either.”

She blushed — but didn’t look away. He leaned in slowly, lowering his voice at her ear. “If you wanna ride, baby… my saddle’s ready.”

She gave him a playful slap on the chest, laughing, biting her lip. “You’re such an idiot.” “But you’re smiling.”