I turned Kennedy to face me, letting my hands settle on her waist as the flickering lights painted her in shades of violet and gold. The noise of the club fell away. For a second, it was just her—glowing under the haze, eyes searching mine.
I raised my glass between us. “To us,” I said, voice low, steady.
She smiled and lifted her glass to meet mine. The clink echoed like a promise. I watched her sip—watched the champagne glint against her lips—and something primal twisted in my chest. God, she was beautiful. She always had been. But tonight? She looked like something untouchable… and she was mine.
I leaned in, not caring who was watching, and kissed her.
It started soft—controlled. But the second she melted into me, everything else disappeared. Her lips parted, and I deepened the kiss, tasting the bubbles on her tongue and the fire in her skin. My pulse roared in my ears. I wrapped my arm tighter around her, needing her closer, needing to show her exactly what she did to me.
She was everything. And this kiss? It was a line in the sand.
When we finally pulled back, her breath was shallow, her cheeks flushed. I kept one hand against her jaw, watching her eyes flutter open. She looked wrecked. Wrecked for me.
“Wow,” she whispered, voice unsteady. “You know how to make a girl feel special.”
I swallowed hard, thumb brushing her cheek. “Only because you are.”
It came out rougher than I meant it to—gravel edged with truth. But she didn’t flinch. She smiled. That small, quiet smile that always managed to gut me.
And yet, under all of it, I felt it again—that creeping shadow trying to slip in. The way people had looked at us earlier. The whispers. The judgment. Like they were waiting for us to break under the pressure. Like they thought I didn’t deserve her.
Maybe I didn’t.
But I wasn’t letting her go.
Not now. Not ever.
I kissed her like I was staking a claim.
Because I was.
Sweet, slow, then deeper—until every trace of champagne was gone and the only thing I could taste was her. When we finally pulled apart, her lips were flushed, her eyes glassy, and I felt that same fierce, almost painful pull in my chest.
Mine.
I brushed my thumb over her cheek, wanting to take her home and prove it again. And again. And again.
But then the voices behind us filtered back in—laughter, music, and my idiot teammates who couldn’t shut up to save their lives.
Kennedy started to smile and lean into me, but I caught the sound of Drew’s voice and groaned. “You want to go back to the table for five minutes so I can shut them up?”
She laughed. “Lead the way, Captain Maddox.”
I laced my fingers through hers and led her across the VIP section, ignoring the stares and the flash of a camera as we passed. The guys were mid-conversation—loud, chaotic, and clearly up to something.
“Look who remembered he has teammates,” Axel boomed as we slid back into the booth.
“I never forgot,” I said, tugging Kennedy onto my lap like it was second nature. “I just had better company.”
Greyson grinned like the smug bastard he was. “You know, most people wait until the third date to get married. You skipped the whole process like it was a goddamn side quest.”
“Didn’t need three dates,” I said, smirking as Kennedy stole a sip of my champagne. “I knew the first night.”
“Of course you did,” Everett muttered. “Possessive lunatic.”
Sam gave me a warm smile. “She’s good for you.”
“She is,” I said, meaning every word.
