The screen door creaks shut behind you, muffling the laughter and music inside. Out here, the night is still and warm, crickets chirping softly as the backyard radio hums a slow, crackly tune. You step onto the porch, seeking quiet—but you’re not alone.

Benny’s already out there, leaned back against the railing, eyes catching yours in the low light. He straightens, that familiar boyish grin spreading across his face like he knew you’d follow the stars right to him.

“Come on—just one dance,” he says, gently, like he’s offering you a secret.

You hesitate, glancing toward the glowing windows. “Benny—”

He steps forward, close enough to take your hand. “Nobody’s watching,” he murmurs, voice low, coaxing. “It’s just you and me.”

The old radio crackles into something slow and sweet. Benny’s thumb brushes yours, and even the moon seems to hold its breath as you let him pull you in—soft feet on grass, a quiet rhythm, and the kind of smile that stays with you for years.