A Shot at Love

Getting Lucky

"Fun fact: I spent most of my high school years living in this house," excitement bubbles in my voice, as I lace my fingers through Noah's warm hand, the crunch of my heels echoing against the gravel driveway. My heart skips a beat at being back, but his touch ignites a surge of confidence and safety within me.

"Is that so? You'll have to give me a full tour of the home. I'd love to see your bedroom," he replies, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

"Play your cards right, and you just might get lucky," I giggle, a flirtatious smile curling my lips as I meet his gaze.

Noah's eyes sparkle with amusement as we approach the Mediterranean-inspired home where I spent my high school years. "As I said, Kingston, I never engage in activities I'm not good at." He laughs, and I playfully roll my eyes, a grin tugging at my mouth as I give his hand a gentle squeeze. The air is fragrant with blooming jasmine, mingling with the faintest hint of the ocean breeze. I take a deep breath, savoring the aroma—it feels so good to be home again.

A sprawling charcoal black carpet stretches beneath our feet, leading us toward the grand entrance, where elegance meets nostalgia. I can't help but feel a rush of memories flooding my mind—the exhilaration of championship basketball games, the thrill of winning state with my dad by my side, and those late-night celebrations with my best friends, all of us young and invincible.

Each step brings back a piece of my youth, a montage of birthdays celebrated in this very house. And then there are the memories with Justin—the bittersweet chaos of puppy love, which feels like a lifetime ago. My stomach tightens at the thought of facing him tonight, but I force myself to put on my best poker face.

The plush carpet cushions my heels as we stroll up. Tonight, the house is alive, transformed for a spectacular gala. Big spotlight beams sweep across the front, while twinkling lights strung above shimmer like diamonds, casting a mesmerizing glow over everything. One thing I know for sure? My mother knows how to throw an unforgettable party.

I steal a glance at Noah, who radiates confidence and appears completely unbothered. "I can see why you're not intimidated by wealth," a smug smile tugs at his lips as his graceful strides lead the way.

"Well, I can confidently say you're the first billionaire I've ever hung out with. So, there's that," I banter, giving him a cheeky nudge with my shoulder.

"Hung out with? Is that all I am to you?" he playfully scoffs. I can't help but giggle nervously as Noah leans in closer, his eyes glimmering with charm. "I'd like to think we do more than that," he adds, absolutely loving my embarrassment.

I catch the little smirk playing on his lips; he is enjoying this. "Oh, we do so much more than that, and we're really good at it," I slide in a bit closer, my voice dropping to a flirty whisper. "It's too bad we can't indulge in those activities right now..."

Noah comes to a stop, releasing my hand, his warm fingers fervently pressing against my hips as he pulls me in close. His midnight-black mask shimmers under the lights, and his pupils triple in size. He is staring so hard at my mouth it forces me to touch my fingertips there.

"Baby, don't tempt me—I'll take you back to that limo right now if you keep this up," his voice is low and so terribly sexy.

I have to catch my breath at his expression, my arms draping around his neck as the breeze carries his clean, special Noah scent toward me. "Well, we can't do that," I say coyly. "But who knows what might happen during the grand tour? The night is still young." I give him a mischievous wink.

Noah's lips quirk up into a smile as he leans down, and he kisses me, hard. My hands twist into his hair, pulling him to me, his mouth opening as my tongue strokes his. My heartbeat races, and I feel an overwhelming urge to drop everything and sprint to that limo. My body craves him, every nerve ending tingling with desire.