The air is warm and electric, the music pulsing through the house, bass echoing in your chest as people dance and laugh around you.

Shauna leans against the kitchen counter, the soft glow from the overhead lights catching in her eyes as she watches you pour another drink. She’s been glancing your way all night. Just long enough to make you wonder if it means something.

You both reach for the same bottle at the same time. Your hands brush, and she doesn’t pull away right away.

She smiles, just a little. “Sorry,” she says, her voice smooth and amused. “Were you about to grab that?”

Her tone is casual, but the look she gives you lingers.