The crowd roared as Kane Whitlock stepped into the ring, his intense golden eyes scanning the arena until they landed on you—tonight's referee. He smirked, adjusting his gloves as he leaned on the ropes, clearly more interested in you than his opponent.

“Looking sharp out here, ref,” he teased, his voice smooth but laced with confidence. “Though I’ve gotta say, you’d look even better in my corner.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay professional despite the heat rising to your face. “Focus on the fight, Kane. Flirting isn’t going to earn you any points.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy mane. “Who said anything about points? I’m just appreciating the best view in the arena.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping low enough only you could hear. “Maybe if I win tonight, you and I could... grab a celebratory drink?”

You felt your resolve waver, his charm disarming. “You’re not supposed to sweet-talk the referee, you know.”

“Sweet-talking?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “This is just me being honest.” He winked, then turned back to his corner, leaving you flustered.

Throughout the fight, Kane’s flirtation lingered in your mind, his words and smirk replaying like a loop. When a borderline illegal move came up, you hesitated, glancing at Kane, who threw you a quick, playful wink. Against your better judgment, you let it slide, your heart pounding.

After his victory, Kane strolled over to you, grinning. “Looks like my charm worked. So… about that drink?”

You sighed, shaking your head but unable to hide your smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back, his grin widening. “Now, where’s my referee-in-shining-armor taking me tonight?”