Zoey

The pulsating music echoes through the lavish halls of my dad's extravagant party, setting the mood for the night. My phone buzzes insistently in my hand, signalling a call from Liora, my best friend. I find a quiet corner to answer her call.

"Hello?" I answer the call, waiting for her response. But there's nothing on the other end. Perhaps the reception is bad here. I look around, searching for a better spot.

"Liora, why aren't you saying anything? Maybe the reception is bad here. Did you call to check if I reached safely? I got here just ten minutes ago. Don't worry, go to sleep, and don't stress—"

Amidst the sea of faces, I spot him.

Max

"What the heck is he doing here?" I cut the call immediately.

My heart races, and I can't help but think, What the heck is he doing here? 

The memories of our last encounter at the bar where I visited with Liora flash before my eyes – the intense kiss, the heat, the connection even though the memory is clouded by the alcohol. But then, just as vividly, the disappointment follows. Max, the undeniable playboy, he was immediately surrounded by other girls once our lips parted.

As I navigate through the party, I spot him, his charismatic presence drawing attention like a moth to a flame. Surrounded by admirers, his cocky grin unmistakable, Max revels in the attention. A pang of irritation surges within me. 

What a cliché! the guy who can't get enough of himself, always craving an audience. I roll my eyes, questioning my luck and the absurdity of the situation.

"What the heck are you doing here?" I ask, my voice sharp as I confront him once the person he's talking to leaves him alone.

Max turns towards me, his gaze locking onto mine with a mischievous glint. "Well, Zoey, darling, I happen to be one of your father's business partners. Surprised?"

I scoff at the revelation, my frustration bubbling to the surface. Of course, he has to be connected to my dad's world. The irony is not lost on me.

"I can't believe my luck," I mutter under my breath, more to myself than to him.

Max grins, seemingly unfazed by my icy demeanour. "I must say, I've been looking forward to meeting the girl from that unforgettable night at the bar. You left quite an impression, Zoey."

His attempt at charm only fuels my irritation. "Save the flattery, Max. I'm not interested in your games."

Undeterred, Max leans in, his gaze never leaving mine. "Come on, don't be like that. We had a great time, didn't we?"

I shoot him a withering look, memories of our passionate kiss mingling with the bitterness of his quick departure. "A great time for you, maybe. I remember how you disappeared into a sea of girls right after."

He chuckles, unapologetic. "Ah, the perks of being me. But I'm here now, aren't I? Let's make up for lost time."

I cross my arms, my resolve unyielding. "You've got to be kidding me. I'm not one of your conquests, Max."

His playful smile doesn't waver as he continues to flirt shamelessly. "Who said anything about conquests, Zoey? I'm just here to enjoy the party with a fascinating companion who kissed me."

Max, with his infuriating confidence, can't resist attempting to flirt with me. I stand my ground, my gaze unyielding, refusing to reciprocate. 

I remember that kiss, the electricity that surged between us, but I also remember his immediate gravitation towards other girls. I don't understand why I am getting so affected by him and bickering with him. I think I am mad at him for treating me like one of those easy girls. I'm not too fond of that feeling. My disdain for his playboy persona increases.

"I don't care about that kiss," I bicker, the words leaving my lips with more conviction than I feel. In truth, it's been an amazing kiss, one that lingers in my thoughts despite my attempts to forget.

Max, ever the narcissist, smirks. "Oh, really? Because every time you mention it, your face turns a delightful shade of red."

I scoff, rolling my eyes at his audacity. He has a knack for turning everything into a flirtatious exchange, but I refuse to let him get under my skin. "Don't flatter yourself, Max. That kiss meant nothing."

He leans in, his confidence unwavering. "You're lying, Zoey. I can see it in your eyes. Admit it, that kiss left an impression."

My jaw clenches, and I shoot him a glare. He might be a smooth talker, but I'm not about to let him charm his way back into my thoughts. "Impression or not, Max, it changes nothing. I have no interest in being another name on your conquest list."

With that, I turn on my heel, leaving Max standing there with a bemused smile. 

The party continues to pulse around me, the music and laughter blending into a cacophony that matches the whirlwind of emotions inside me. As I walk away, I can't shake the lingering memory of that unforgettable kiss, but I refuse to let it define my interactions with the infuriating playboy named Max.

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With love,
flwenzi ♡