Charlie dragged Aiden to the party that night, determined to help him loosen up. The lights pulsed in every color imaginable, the air thick with perfume, alcohol, and laughter. They danced until their feet ached, and though countless guys tried to chat him up, Aiden eventually slipped away to a quiet corner.
He sat there, sipping his drink and scrolling through his phone, uploading photos and replying to messages, when a voice interrupted him.
"Hey," a familiar tone said.
He looked up lazily. "Hi."
The man smiled and took the seat beside him. Aiden frowned slightly — the face looked familiar, but he couldn't place it.
"Do I know you?" he asked.
"Yeah, I think so. I tried getting your number that night at the bar in Monaco, remember? You were gone before I could. You're even more stunning than I thought."
"Oh…" Aiden chuckled softly. "I see."
The conversation flowed easily after that. They laughed and shared random stories, and for a moment, Aiden forgot about the noise around them. But Charlie noticed. He saw the stranger leaning close to Aiden, saw Aiden smiling, and something inside him flared.
He left the dance floor and walked over, forcing a calm tone.
"Aiden, let's go home."
Aiden blinked. "Why? We just got here."
"It's late," Charlie replied sharply, eyes fixed on the man. "Let's go to the hotel."
"But—"
"Let's go." He grabbed Aiden's wrist, pulling him gently but firmly toward the exit.
Aiden waved quickly at the man. "Bye, Mike!"
Outside, Charlie stopped, his jaw tight.
"You even know his name?"
"Yeah," Aiden replied innocently. "We met when I was in Monaco. He's fun to talk to. Why—" He paused, seeing the look in Charlie's eyes. "Do you two know each other?"
"Not really," Charlie muttered. "But stay away from him."
The ride back to their lodge was quiet.
---