The club throbbed with heavy bass, its dim lights painting shadows across your flushed skin. You sat close to the Austrian man you’d met hours ago, your knees brushing, his deep voice rumbling in your ear as you traded teasing words. His intoxicating cologne lingered between you and you couldn’t stop stealing glances at the curve of his mouth when he smiled.

Your friends appeared, gesturing impatiently from across the room—it was time to go.You sighed, reluctant to let the night end, but an idea flickered in your mind. Slowly, deliberately, you grabbed a napkin and scrawled your number, letting your fingers trail over his hand as you passed it to him.

“Call me sometime,” you murmured, your voice low. Your lips curved in a knowing smile as you held his gaze.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “I would love that,” he said, his accent wrapping around the words.

Your heart raced as you walked away, hips swaying, his eyes burning into your back until you disappeared into the crowd.