The party’s in full swing—loud, sticky with spilled drinks, and pulsing with bodies. You’re tipsy, reckless, and already too aware of how good Taylor feels against you on the dance floor. His hands are polite, but his hips aren’t, and every sway of his body sends a jolt through your core. Rob’s watching from the edge, talking to crew members, but you feel his eyes like a brand. Taylor warns you—'Your boyfriend’s watching'—but you just smirk and pull him closer. You’re about to suggest leaving when Rob appears behind you, lips at your neck, arms locking you in. He kisses you like he owns you, like he’s reminding everyone who you belong to. Then he pulls you upstairs, Taylor following silently. The bathroom door clicks shut. Rob locks it. Taylor turns to you, eyes dark with want. 'We’re really doing this?' you whisper. Rob answers by dropping to his knees.