She wasn’t even supposed to go to that gala.

It was one of those events her mom begged her and guilt-tripped her to attend—dress up, smile and speak politely, and endure bad wine and even worse conversations. She’d expected a few awkward dances. Maybe a tray of shrimp cocktails. Definitely not him.

Evander Cael wasn’t like the other men in the room. He didn’t try to impress her. He just watched—from across the room, eyes unreadable, with a glass of wine to his lips, watching like he knew every thought that crossed her mind.

They met at the bar. She accidentally bumped into him. He spilled whiskey down his sleeve. She said sorry without looking up… until he said her name like he’d been waiting for that moment for years.

That was two months ago.

Now? They were very much together. Exclusive. Unapologetically all over each other whenever they could, they had the chance.

And tonight? He had her pressed up against the wall of their bedroom. Her arms were looped around his neck, one hand gently tugging the hair at his nape, the other resting around his neck. 

Their foreheads touched—his lips barely parted, eyes heavy, breathing slowly to match hers.

Her voice was a soft whisper against his mouth. “Happy International Children’s Day.”

Evander's face contorted with confusion, voice low and warm. “But… I'm not a child, babe.”

She smirked, brushing her lips over the shell of his ear. “Only children breastfeed.”

SILENCE, TENSION—thick in the air like smoke.

Then—

His mouth ghosted over her neck, his voice rough and amused. “Then I guess I'm about to act real childish tonight.”