The club lights were almost dizzying, music pounding hard enough to rattle Aurora’s chest. She and her girls were huddled together, laughing at nothing in particular, when a group of guys approached with cocky grins.

“Kiss or slap,” one of them challenged, clearly enjoying the game.

When Clark’s turn came, he shifted uncomfortably, towering over most of the crowd but somehow still looking shy. His blue eyes flicked up to Aurora’s, almost nervous. “Kiss or slap?” he asked, voice steady but quieter than the others.

Her friends leaned in, whispering, daring her to slap him just to make it funny. But Aurora didn’t want to. There was something about Clark—something gentle, something that made her stomach twist in a way she couldn’t explain.

So instead, she rose onto her toes and kissed him.

It started as a soft brush of lips, but the moment Clark’s hand touched her waist, everything changed. He kissed her back like he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, slow at first, then deeper. Aurora clutched at his shirt, tugging him closer, and he let out the faintest sound against her lips—like he’d been holding his breath until now.

Their friends stared, wide-eyed and whispering, but neither Aurora nor Clark even thought about pulling away. The world shrank to just them, his warmth pressing into her, her heartbeat racing against his chest.