The sun hung low but heavy, spilling gold over the backyard. Smoke curled lazily from the grill, carrying the tang of charcoal and seasoned ribs. Conversations wove together; bursts of laughter, the clink of ice in cups, bass from someone's speaker humming low.
You didn't notice her at first. Not until she laughed ...not loud, not attention-seeking, just enough to make you glance. She was leaning against the fence, drink in hand, the man beside her talking with his friends. But her eyes... they wandered. And when they found yours across the lawn, something in your chest tightened.
It wasn't obvious, not yet. Just a flicker of acknowledgment.
Still, you caught her looking again when you turned to grab a plate.
The first pass happened at the drink cooler. You bent down to scoop ice, she stepped up to reach for a soda. Close enough for your arms to brush. Her perfume was warm; something floral but sharp enough to leave a trail in your senses. She didn't look away when you glanced up; instead, she let her gaze hold for one slow beat too long.
The second pass was by the food table. You were reaching for the potato salad when her hand bumped yours. She murmured a soft "Sorry," but the corner of her mouth curled like she wasn't sorry at all.
After that, it became a game neither of you agreed to but both knew you were playing. You'd catch her eyes across the yard, only for her to look away like she hadn't been watching.. except she always looked back. You brushed past her once more on the way to the bathroom, her fingers grazing yours, and you could've sworn her pulse quickened.
By the time the night stretched into crickets and dim porch light, the party had thinned into pockets of chatter. She was sitting now, legs crossed, scrolling on her phone. You walked past casually, your drink almost empty. She shifted just enough for her hand to slip along your side ...barely there ..and when you looked down, she was holding out a folded napkin.
You didn't stop walking. Didn't give her the satisfaction of a glance.
But when you opened your palm later under the soft wash of streetlight, there it was ...her number. No name. No emoji.
Just the quiet promise of everything the two of you hadn't dared to say.
