CHAPTER 1: The meet
Luke is a famous singer and model, but he was in a boy band of two, so it was basically him and Jake. They weren’t just coworkers—they were like brothers. Everything they shared, every little secret, every laugh, every late-night conversation, it was theirs alone. Tonight, they were invited to a bar party, one of those loud, overstuffed events where the music hit you in the chest and people moved like waves of chaos.
At first, Luke tried to stay with Jake, weaving through the crowd, clinking glasses, nodding at people, pretending he was having a good time. But after ten minutes, the music felt too loud, the lights too harsh, the conversations too meaningless. He couldn’t keep up the act.
“I’ll be back,” he muttered to Jake, giving a small shrug. Jake didn’t argue; he just clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared into the crowd, swallowed by the sea of people.
Luke made his way to a quieter corner and slid onto a stool, reaching for a glass of tequila. He knew he shouldn’t be drinking—he had never really drunk before—but the weight of everyone’s eyes, the pressure to smile, to be charming, to be perfect, made his hand shake slightly as he lifted the glass.
The tequila hit his stomach, slow and warm, and he let himself feel it, just for a moment. His head grew lighter, the tension easing, and he took a careful sip, warning himself not to overdo it. Just a little. Enough to calm the storm inside.
He leaned back, letting his eyes drift across the room. That’s when he saw her.
She wasn’t easy to miss. Black, tight dress that clung just enough to make him notice the curve of her hips, long hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, minimal makeup that somehow made her look sharper, cleaner, more… focused. At first, he wasn’t sure if she was a guest or a staff member, but the way she moved—alert, professional, yet effortless—made him guess she was part of the team running the party.
Then he saw the tag, small and silver, pinned to her chest. He squinted. Couldn’t quite make out the letters from this distance, but it didn’t matter. He noticed how her eyes scanned the crowd, how her lips pressed together when someone bumped into her, and how she moved with precision and ease.
Luke’s fingers tightened around his glass. There was something about her—something magnetic. She wasn’t loud or flashy, but every movement pulled him in, made the chaos around them fade, made him aware of every detail: the shine of her hair, the smooth line of her neck, the way her heels clicked against the floor with purpose.
He tried to look away, tried to remind himself he shouldn’t get distracted. But every time she glanced in his direction, his pulse jumped, and he felt that slow, dangerous heat creeping into his chest. He had been in rooms full of people before, used to attention, used to admiration, but this—this was different. There was an edge to her. She didn’t look impressed or starstruck. She looked… aware.
Luke took another small sip of tequila, then set the glass down. Enough to feel it, not enough to lose control. He knew he had to calm himself, or he would end up walking over, saying something stupid, letting the alcohol push him where his instincts already wanted him to go.
She bent slightly to pick up something from the floor, and the motion made his eyes linger longer than he should have. The curve of her back, the way the dress hugged her hips, the subtle sway of her ponytail—it was hypnotic. Every detail felt like it was being etched into his mind.
The music thumped through the room, people dancing and talking, completely oblivious to him, to her, to the tension building in the space between them. He wanted to move, to cross the distance without a word, to see if she felt it too—the pull, the intensity, the dangerous little spark that made his chest tighten.
But he stayed, frozen on the stool, taking deep breaths, letting the tequila keep him grounded just enough. He watched as she adjusted her stance, interacting with someone else, professional and polite, yet impossibly alluring. He didn’t know her name, didn’t know her story, but suddenly, it didn’t matter. He wanted to know.
Luke smiled faintly, almost to himself, a dangerous little grin that only the alcohol dared to coax out. He could feel Jake’s absence, the loneliness in the crowd, and yet, somehow, she made the noise around him fade.
Something told him tonight wasn’t going to end quietly.
Luke snapped back to reality when one of the hosts came up to him, all polished charm and rehearsed enthusiasm. “Luke! So glad you could make it tonight,” the host said, extending a hand.
Luke forced that familiar, practiced smile onto his face, nodding and murmuring polite responses. “Of course, happy to be here,” he said, his voice steady, though his mind was somewhere entirely else.
He could feel the weight of expectation pressing down on him—the cameras, the other guests, the endless attention that followed him wherever he went. And yet, despite all of that, his eyes kept drifting back to her.
There she was, just a few feet away, moving with that impossible mix of grace and purpose, ignoring the chaos of the party around her. Luke knew he should stop staring, should focus on the conversation he was supposed to be having. But he couldn’t. It was like something in him had shifted, loosened by the tequila he had taken earlier.
The alcohol had barely touched his system, just enough to blur the edges of his usual restraint, and suddenly he found himself imagining things he shouldn’t. His mind wandered, picturing the feel of her hair in his fingers, the brush of her skin against his palm, the heat of her body close to his. He hadn’t even talked to her, hadn’t even exchanged a word, and yet the pull between them was almost physical, electric.
Luke blinked, trying to push the thoughts away. He had never dated anyone before—never allowed himself the kind of intimacy that others seemed to take for granted. And now here he was, standing at a bar in the middle of a crowded party, feeling more aware of a stranger than anyone else in the room. Maybe it was the tequila. Maybe it was the isolation of the crowd. But he couldn’t deny it; he wanted her.
His hand tightened around his glass, the cool surface grounding him just enough to prevent him from acting on instinct. He forced his gaze back to the host, nodding and laughing at the right moments, giving the right responses. And yet, every laugh felt hollow, every smile forced. His mind kept flicking back, picturing her ponytail swinging as she moved, the way her dress hugged her frame, the subtle confidence in the way she carried herself.
It was maddening. He hated that he was thinking like this about someone he barely knew, yet every instinct in his body was screaming at him to go to her, to see if she felt the same way, to cross the distance that seemed both impossibly long and ridiculously short.
He realized with a mix of frustration and fascination that the party could be over, the crowd could leave, and he’d still be focused on her. The tequila, the noise, the people—it all faded whenever she moved into his line of sight.
Luke took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the tequila ease the tension in his chest, and for a moment, allowed himself to just look. No expectations. No rules. Just the undeniable pull that made him aware of every heartbeat, every shiver, every little detail about her that he couldn’t stop noticing.
And even though he didn’t know her name, didn’t know a thing about her, Luke knew one thing: he wanted to see more.
Once the host finally left, Luke let go of the glass in his hand, the faint clink against the bar almost echoing in his mind.
“Sh*t… what am I even thinking, or doing?” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His chest felt tight, a mix of embarrassment and something hotter, something he hadn’t experienced before.
He needed to escape, even for a few minutes. He needed cold water on his face, a moment to clear his head and stop thinking about her like this. Spinning around, he scanned the room, trying to find the nearest bathroom. The crowd was a blur, lights flashing, people moving past him in a dizzying rush. He found a door, unlabeled, and without thinking too much, pushed it open.
It wasn’t a bathroom. It was a quiet room, dimly lit, surprisingly empty. Perfect. At first, he breathed a sigh of relief, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. He could lean against the wall, collect himself, maybe even just… breathe for a moment.
But as he stepped further inside, he realized he wasn’t alone.
A girl was in the room. She hadn’t noticed him yet. She was changing—her back was to him, bra straps slipping slightly as she adjusted her top. Her hair was loose now, cascading down her shoulders, catching the light in a way that made it glow.
Luke froze, a cold jolt running through him. His brain screamed at him to leave, to turn, to run. This wasn’t his place. He shouldn’t even be here.
And yet, he didn’t move. The tequila, light as it was, had loosened the boundaries in his mind, dulled the usual self-control that kept him from doing stupid things. He just… stayed there.
He tried to reason with himself, tried to force his eyes away, but it was impossible. Something about her—the curve of her back, the way she moved with ease, the faint outline of her bra—had him rooted to the spot. Every heartbeat felt loud in his chest, every breath shallow.
She adjusted her hair, and Luke could see the muscles in her shoulders tense, the soft line of her neck, the hint of her collarbone. He knew he shouldn’t look, that he shouldn’t even be thinking like this, but the pull was maddening. It was a mix of desire and guilt, heat and shame, all swirling together in his chest.
Luke swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He could feel the warmth of his body, the rapid thump of his heart. He knew he was treading a line he shouldn’t, and yet he couldn’t move.
Her head tilted slightly, catching a strand of hair behind her ear, and he imagined how soft her skin must feel under his fingers. Every rational thought screamed at him to leave. Every impulse whispered to him to stay.
And just like that, the room shrank, the world outside faded, and it was just him and her, a moment suspended in time, dangerous and intoxicating.
Luke’s hand twitched, almost reaching out, before he clenched it into a fist. He had to control himself—he had to—but the tension, the pull, the desire—it was too strong to ignore.
