She holds the door for me, all polite and chivalrous, that sweet smile tugging at her lips. But the second I step past her, I feel it — a sharp, playful slap on my ass.

I whirl around, shocked, and she’s already grinning like she owns the moment.

“Move,” she murmurs, low and teasing, fingers catching mine before I can even answer.

Her hand is warm, firm, and she doesn’t just lead — she pulls, like we’ve got somewhere important to be and she’s the only one who knows the way. The crowd, the noise, the whole world — it all blurs around us.

Jennie glances back at me once, eyes glinting under the warm light. “You coming, or do I need to carry you too?”

And I’m not sure if she’s joking… but the way she’s holding my hand tells me she’d do it without hesitation.