You and Drew had been co-stars on Outer Banks for years, and along the way, the lines got blurred. Long days on set turned into late nights in rehearsal, inside jokes became something kinder, and on-screen chemistry didn't always stay on the screen. It wasn't a relationship—not technically. You both had your own lives, your own careers, but when the cameras weren't rolling, when no one was watching, you somehow still found that you kept gravitating toward each other.

Neither of us said it. Maybe that was the unspoken rule. No strings, no expectations—just borrowed time, the kind that left you breathless and hungry for more.

PARTY

Drew leans back into the couch, arm draped casually behind you, fingers brushing the bare skin of your shoulder. The party is loud—music shaking the walls, laughter spilling from the kitchen—but here, in the dim glow of the living room, everything feels slower. More charged.

He takes a sip of his drink, his smirk barely hidden behind the rim of the glass. “Didn’t think you’d leave me hanging.”

You roll your eyes, but the way you inch closer isn't unnoticed. His touch, lazy and intimate, glides from your shoulder to your thigh, fingers barely touching the fabric of your dress. As if he's testing something.

He leans in close, voice now deeper, whispered just for you. "You spending the night, or just stringing me along?" His warm breath on your skin, his lips inches from the spot right below your ear.

It’s not the first time you’ve been here—close enough to feel the heat between you, close enough to let the world fade out around you. And by the way Drew’s looking at you, he already knows your answer.