Meghan’s P.O.V.
The pulsating rhythm of the music thrummed through my veins as I moved with Blade on the crowded dancefloor. The warm, amber lighting illuminated the sleek lines of his jaw, and the way his lips curved into that effortless grin made my heart skip. His large hands rested on my hips, holding me close, guiding me in time with the beat. The proximity was intoxicating—his woodsy cologne mingling with the scent of my own lavender perfume.
"You’re not bad at this," Blade murmured, his voice rich and teasing. I tilted my head, a sly smile playing on my lips.
"Not bad? I think I’m carrying this whole routine."
Blade’s laughter was deep and unguarded, sending shivers down my spine. His hands tightened ever so slightly, pulling me even closer until our bodies moved as one. The mu
