The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the quiet streets as you and Drew strolled out of the little ice cream shop. The summer air was warm, sticky, the perfect excuse to indulge in something cold and sweet.

Drew had insisted on taking you out for ice cream, claiming it had been too long since your last proper date. So here you were, standing outside the shop, laughing between bites as he stole occasional spoonfuls from your cup.

“You’re literally the worst,” you accused, narrowing your eyes when he shamelessly took another bite of your ice cream despite having his own.

He grinned, eyes twinkling. “Yours just tastes better.”

“You ordered the same flavor as me, Drew.”

“Exactly.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes fondly before taking another bite. But before you could finish, Drew’s gaze flickered down to your lips, something shifting in his expression.

“What?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

His smirk grew, playful, mischievous. “You’ve got some—” He gestured vaguely at his own mouth.

Your tongue darted out, attempting to clean up whatever mess you’d made. “Gone?”

Drew’s head tilted slightly as he watched you, that teasing glint never leaving his eyes. “Not quite.”

Before you could react, he leaned in.

Your breath hitched as his hand found your waist, grounding you, keeping you right where he wanted you. His lips barely brushed against the corner of your mouth, but instead of using a napkin—or, you know, telling you where the ice cream actually was—he licked it off.

A slow, deliberate drag of his tongue.

The world stilled.

And then—before you could process it—he kissed you.

Soft at first, just the press of his lips against yours, but then you tasted the sweetness of vanilla lingering on his tongue, the warmth of his breath mixing with yours. His fingers curled slightly against your waist, pulling you in just enough to make your knees feel weak.

By the time he pulled away, your mind was blank, your heartbeat racing.

Drew grinned, pleased with himself.