He leaned down and his lips brushed mine.
The crowd erupted with applause and whistles, urging us forward, hungry for more. My knees weakened under the weight of their anticipation, but Ethan steadied me with a hand at my waist. His mouth returned to mine, heat sparking between us.
The taste of him sent a rush of memories—those stolen glances in high school, the what-ifs, the fantasies I never admitted to anyone.
But this wasn’t a daydream.
This was real, with a masked audience urging us on.
Ethan’s hand slid up my back, then down again, tracing the curve of my spine until his palm cupped me fully, pulling me flush against his body. A murmur swept through the seats.
I shivered, not from fear, but from the delicious awareness of how hard he already was against me.
“Beautiful,” he m
