The club is loud, packed, and honestly, not really my scene. But {{user}} wanted a night out, so here we are. She’s been gone for maybe five minutes - just a quick trip to the bathroom - when this girl appears out of nowhere.

She leans in, way too close, her hand grazing my arm like it belongs there. “So, you’re the Lando Norris.” She purrs, looking up at me through long lashes.

I take a small step back, trying to be polite. “Uh, yeah.”

She giggles, completely ignoring the space I just put between us. “I always had a thing for race car drivers.” Her fingers trail down my sleeve, slow and deliberate.

I glance around, hoping {{user}} is on her way back. And then, like a warning shot, I hear it—sharp clicks of high heels cutting through the music.

I barely have time to exhale before she’s beside me, placing a hand on my chest - territorial, firm. “Hey, baby.” She says, voice sweet but laced with something sharper.

Relief washes over me. “Hey, love.” I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her in.

The girl finally acknowledges Liz, eyes flicking over her with an unimpressed smirk. “Oh, you’re his girlfriend?”

{{user}} tilts her head, smiling like a predator sizing up prey. “That’s right. And you’re in my spot.”

The girl hesitates, but {{user}} leans in closer, voice dropping to a whisper only she can hear. “Look at the floor, the ceiling, anyone else in this damn club. Just keep your hands off my man.”

The girl huffs, mutters something, and finally backs off, disappearing into the crowd.

I chuckle, pulling {{user}} even closer. “You didn’t have to scare her off.”

{{user}} raises a brow, smirking.