Joan's laughter tickled the edge of my thoughts, but I was no longer fully present.
He had walked away, but his presence clung to me like the warmth left after a touch. I turned, subtly, letting my eyes sweep across the room searching.
And there he was.
Leaning against the far wall, wine glass in hand, surrounded by two other men. They were talking, laughing even, but he was watching me. Not directly, not obviously but I could feel it. His gaze moved like silk over me, casual yet concentrated, as if he had already memorized my face and was just confirming the details.
Joan nudged my side, her voice dipping with mischief. "You're quiet," she said.
I blinked. "What?"
" Come on" she laughed, but there was curiosity there, too. " What did he say?"
I shook my head, barely able to form a coherent response. "Nothing. Just asked if I was alright."
Joan stared at me for a beat. Then she sipped her wine, arched a brow, and muttered, "Mmm. I see."
I didn't answer. My attention was already drifting back to him.
He hadn't moved much. He stood tall, his presence calm. He laughed at something one of the other men said, his fingers casually swirling the wine in his glass. But then, like he felt me watching, his head tilted, eyes lifting—and locking straight onto mine.
My breath caught.
That gaze again. Slow. Steady. Knowing. It curled around me like smoke.
This time, he didn't look away.
I felt stripped bare in that moment, like he was seeing beyond what I showed the world. My grip tightened around my glass, grounding myself.
"Okay, what is going on?" Joan leaned in, following my line of sight.
I didn't answer Joan. I couldn't."
Then—
Eeeekkkk—a high-pitched squeal rang through the room as someone tapped the microphone, cutting through the tension like a knife.
Everyone flinched. A few laughed. Glasses clinked. Conversations paused.
"Hello, everyone!" a cheerful voice echoed from the speakers, commanding attention. "Welcome, welcome! We're so glad you could all make it tonight."
The crowd shifted, turning toward the makeshift stage at the front of the room. The atmosphere reset, lightened. Joan's attention was pulled away, and she leaned slightly to get a better look.
I, on the other hand, used the distraction to breathe.
The speaker's voice bounced around the room, still bright and full of energy. "Before we dive deeper into tonight's fun, let's all raise our glasses and welcome the man of the night."
Cheers rang out like a wave, hands lifting glasses of wine into the air.
I watched, my eyes following the movement of the crowd. Then I saw him moving toward the front with the same effortless grace, his presence commanding attention. He didn't hurry, no rush in his step, just an easy, confident stride that seemed to part the sea of people in his wake.
I felt an odd flutter in my chest as he approached the small stage, and before anyone could say anything else, he stepped up to the microphone. The room grew quiet, the murmurs dying down as he adjusted the mic stand, the low hum of anticipation hanging in the air.
He smiled, that slow, knowing smile that seemed to hold a hundred secrets. His voice was deep, smooth, like velvet. "Thank you, everyone," he said, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing on me, locking with mine again. "I'm Adrian," he added, with just the right amount of weight in his voice.
And just like that, it clicked. Adrian was the birthday boy. The man whose eyes had followed me through the room like a silent predator.
The applause slowly faded, replaced by the soft hum of chatter as people began to mingle again. I shifted uncomfortably, still processing his presence on stage and that lingering gaze.
"Thank you all for being here tonight," he began, his voice deep and steady, capturing everyone's attention. "I'm truly humbled by all of you showing up to celebrate. It's not every day you get to be surrounded by such amazing people." He paused for a beat, scanning the room, and his eyes briefly landed on me.
"I hope we have a night full of laughter, dancing, and unforgettable memories," he added, his tone light but meaningful. "Let's make it a night to remember. Cheers."
The crowd cheered, raising their glasses to him. But before anyone could move, the DJ called out, "And now, for the man of the hour, let's keep the energy going. Adrian, the floor is yours!"
The crowd erupted into applause once again.
Adrian smiled, acknowledging the cheers, before stepping down from the small stage and making his way across the room. His movements were fluid, like he knew everyone's eyes were on him, and he was in control of every second of it. I watched, mesmerized, as he approached the bar. My breath hitched when he smiled at a tall woman standing there, dressed in a sleek red dress that seemed to catch the light just right.
She laughed, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. I noticed how easy their interaction was. He leaned in slightly, his voice low, and I could just make out his words: "May I have this dance?"
I felt a knot form in my stomach. Before I could process the situation, she smiled back, accepting his hand. They moved gracefully together towards the dance floor, their connection undeniable. She fit perfectly with him, like they were part of the same world.
The music shifted, and the crowd followed them, clapping in rhythm.
They started moving in perfect harmony on the floor, his hands on her waist, guiding her with ease. She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed in pleasure, completely at ease in his presence.
I stood there, frozen, my drink in hand, watching them.
I should've known better. What had I expected?
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the feeling only grew stronger. I glanced at Joan, hoping for some kind of distraction.
"You okay?" Joan asked, her eyes flicking from me to the dance floor, where Adrian and the woman danced together.
I managed a tight smile, nodding.
But inside, something curled in on itself.
I looked back toward the dance floor, not expecting much. Just a glimpse, a confirmation that whatever spark I'd felt earlier had been a fluke.
His hand was still on the woman's waist, her smile still bright as ever. But his eyes on me. Steady. Unapologetic. Like he'd never looked away.
I blinked, unsure if I'd imagined it. But he didn't flinch. Didn't turn away. He held my gaze even as the music carried on, even as the woman in red leaned into him blissfully.
My heart stuttered. The knot in my stomach twisted tighter. He leaned toward the woman, whispered something in her ear. She nodded, gave a light laugh, and let go.
Adrian stepped back. His movements smooth but purposeful, cutting through the dancers like water slipping through cracks.
He came toward me.
The room seemed to stretch and blur, my breath caught somewhere between disbelief and anticipation. Joan let out a low whistle under her breath.
"Well, damn."
He stopped just a breath away, his presence wrapping around me like heat. His hand extended between us.
"Dance with me?" he asked, his voice low and certain, as though this moment had always belonged to us.
I didn't trust myself to speak. So I nodded.
And as his hand slipped into mine, I felt the crowd vanish.
His fingers curled gently around mine, warm and assured. Without a word, he led me forward to the stage.
I hesitated, glancing up at him. He didn't stop. Just glanced over his shoulder, a crooked smile playing on his lips. "Come with me."
A beat passed, and then I followed.
As we stepped onto the small stage, soft gold lights poured over us like melted candlelight. The crowd below quieted again, a hush falling like the calm before a melody.
The DJ caught on instantly. The current beat faded out, replaced by something slow and velvety, sultry and aching with every note.
Adrian turned to face me, his hand finding my waist, his other still holding mine. I placed my free hand against his shoulder, still unsure if my legs could hold me up.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, eyes searching mine.
I nodded, though my voice barely worked. "Yes."
Then we moved.
Slow, deliberate steps. A rhythm found between our bodies, our breathing. His touch reverent. Focused.
His gaze held mine, quieter now, softer. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice low, intimate, as if we were the only two people in the room.
I hesitated, just for a second. "Nia," I said.
He repeated it under his breath, like a prayer. "Nia." It rolled off his tongue like silk. Like he'd known it all along but just needed to hear it from me.
The music continued, a quiet current between us.
He smiled again, more to himself this time, as if my name tasted sweet in his mouth.
"I'm Adrian," he offered, though I already knew. "Nice to meet you."
I nodded slowly, letting the sound of it settle between us.
The world fell away. No clinking glasses, no murmured conversations, no Joan watching with wide, amused eyes. Just the music, slow and molten, and the space between our bodies gradually shrinking until even breath felt shared.
Adrian's hand at my waist tightened ever so slightly, guiding me with a tenderness that made my chest ache. His eyes never left mine.
We swayed, our steps small, deliberate. His warmth soaked into my skin, his scent clean, like earth after rain anchoring me. I'd never danced like this before. Not just with my body, but with something deeper. My soul felt touched.
As the song neared its end, he leaned in just enough for his breath to kiss the shell of my ear.
"Thank you, Nia," he whispered, like the words carried weight he didn't know how else to show.
The last notes drifted into silence, a soft hush sweeping over us like a curtain falling on a sacred moment.