The music thrummed through the ballroom, a steady pulse beneath the golden glow of chandeliers. Laughter and conversation swirled around you, but all you could focus on was him.

Drew stood before you, dressed in a sleek suit that made your heart stutter. His tie was slightly loosened, his hair tousled like he’d run his fingers through it a few too many times. But it was his eyes that had you breathless—blue, intense, locked onto you like you were the only person in the room.

“You’re staring,” he murmured, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, feigning indifference. “So are you.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he held out his hand, palm up, waiting. “Dance with me.”

You hesitated, glancing at the crowd on the dance floor. Elegant couples moved effortlessly, lost in their own little worlds.

“I don’t know if I—”

“Just follow me,” Drew cut in, stepping closer, his voice low, warm. “I won’t let you fall.”

Something about the way he said it made your pulse quicken.

So, you placed your hand in his.

Drew’s fingers curled around yours, firm yet gentle, guiding you onto the dance floor. One hand settled on your waist, the other lacing your fingers together. He pulled you in—close, closer than necessary, and yet, not close enough.

The music slowed, something soft, something meant for moments like this. Drew led effortlessly, his movements smooth, his touch light but commanding.

“You do this often?” you teased, trying to ignore the way your heart hammered.

His lips twitched. “Only with you.”

Your breath hitched.

He spun you, bringing you back against him with ease. His hand splayed against your back, his thumb brushing idly over the fabric of your dress. You weren’t sure if he even realized he was doing it, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured, his lips near your ear.

Your cheeks burned. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Drew chuckled, his chest vibrating against yours. His grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly.