Ariana’s POV
Zack’s hand was the first thing I saw when I stepped out of the car. He stood tall in front of the restaurant, framed by the soft golden lights that spilled from the glass doors. His suit was perfectly tailored, his hair slightly tousled like he’d run his hand through it on purpose. The look suited him—effortless and sharp.
When he reached for me, his hand was warm and firm. “You made it,” he said, smiling as if he’d been waiting longer than he’d ever admit.
“I said I would,” I replied, keeping my tone calm, though my pulse betrayed me.
His gaze drifted down to the red satin dress that hugged me just right. The slit on the side caught the light every time I moved. “I was worried the dress wouldn’t fit,” he said, that familiar teasing tone slipping in.
“It fit too well,” I
