Private club

Marissa had just stepped toward the bar again, trying to steady the unfamiliar mix of confidence and nerves swirling in her chest, when she felt it—

A warm hand, slow and deliberate, brushing lightly along the middle of her back.

Not invasive.

Not rushed.

Just… there.

She stilled for half a second, her breath catching before she turned.

And then she saw him.

He was tall — easily over six feet — with a build that looked like it had been carved, not trained. Broad shoulders, strong arms outlined beneath a fitted black shirt, the kind of presence that made people move without him asking.

A wrestler’s body.

Powerful. Grounded. Controlled.

But it wasn’t just that.

It was the way he looked at her.

Focused. Calm. Like he wasn’t scanning the room for options.

Like he had already chosen where his attention was going.

Her.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, steady.

His hand slipped away from her back, giving her space immediately — like he understood boundaries without needing them explained.

“I’m Nico.”

Marissa blinked, caught slightly off guard by how easily he filled the space around her.

“Marissa,” she replied, her voice softer than she intended.

He smiled — not overly confident, not cocky.

Just… real.

“First time here?” he asked.

She let out a small laugh. “Am I that obvious too?”

“Only because you’re actually looking at everything,” he said. “Most people stop noticing after a while.”

Her eyes narrowed playfully. “And you noticed me noticing?”

“Yeah,” he said simply.

Something about that made her stomach flip.

Not in a nervous way.

In a this is new kind of way.

They moved slightly to the side of the room, away from the heavier crowd, their conversation flowing easier than Marissa expected.

Nico didn’t rush her.

Didn’t assume.

Didn’t push.

He asked questions — real ones.

And when she answered, he actually listened.

“You don’t seem like you belong in a quiet life,” he said at one point, studying her.

Marissa raised an eyebrow. “You got all that from ten minutes of talking?”

He smirked slightly. “No… from the way you’re trying to pretend you’re not curious about everything in here.”

She opened her mouth to argue—

Then stopped.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

“I don’t even know why I came,” she admitted.

Nico leaned in just slightly, not enough to invade her space, but enough that his presence felt closer.

“Yeah, you do.”

Her breath hitched.

“Then why?” she asked quietly.

His gaze didn’t leave hers.

“Because some part of you is done playing it safe.”

The words landed deeper than she expected.

Marissa looked away for a moment, her heart picking up just enough to remind her she was very aware of him standing there.

Of how close he was.

Of how easy it would be to lean into this moment…

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Nico added, his tone softer now. “Not here. Not with me. Not with anyone.”

She looked back at him.

“And if I wanted to?” she asked, surprising even herself.

A slow smile spread across his face — not predatory, not pushy.

Interested.

“Then you set the pace,” he said. “Always.”

For the first time that night, Marissa didn’t feel unsure.

She felt… in control.

And as she stood there, meeting his gaze, something shifted again inside her.