The party screamed Kook royalty—black ties, string quartets, expensive wine flowing like water. Your father was hosting, trying to impress a circle of businessmen you couldn’t care less about. You were stuck in a dress that cost more than a Pogue’s car, heels digging into the marble floor, just existing.

That was, until some creep in a blue suit slid beside you.

“Didn’t expect someone as pretty as you to be alone,” he said, smirking like he owned the place.

“I’m not interested,” you replied sharply, eyes not even meeting his.

But he didn’t budge. “Let me buy you a drink—”

He reached for your waist and your entire body tensed.

Your eyes scanned the room in a panic. That’s when you spotted a waiter walking by—broad shoulders, blonde hair tucked, back turned. No hesitation.

You grabbed his arm and yanked him in front of you. “Sorry,” you said sweetly to the guy, “I’m taken.”

The guy scoffed but backed off, disappearing into the crowd.

You let out a breath, and then the “waiter” turned.

Your stomach dropped.

“Surprise,” JJ Maybank said, lips curled into a cocky grin. “Didn’t know you were so into me.”

You blinked. “What the actual hell—what are you doing here?”

“Stealing top-shelf booze,” he said, lifting his tray like it was obvious. “I got bored. And hungry. So I got creative.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet,” he leaned closer, voice low, teasing, “you picked me out of the whole damn party to play boyfriend. Cute.”

“You were the first poor soul I saw with a clean shirt,” you snapped.

He stepped closer, smirk deepening. “Still. Makes you wonder, huh? Maybe under all that Kook polish, you do like me.”

You scoffed and turned to leave, but not before you heard him mutter behind you—

“Careful, Princess. Keep touching me like that, and people might think you mean it.”

And the worst part? A tiny, stupid part of you almost did.