(Ethan's POV)
I hate charity events. The forced smiles, the stilted conversations, the endless parade of wealthy people pretending to care about something other than their stock portfolios – it's all a carefully orchestrated performance. But tonight, I had no choice. The annual Carter Foundation gala was a major event, a chance to network, to boost the company's image, and to remind everyone that Carter Enterprises wasn't just about profits, it was about giving back.
I was working the room, shaking hands, making small talk, when Liam appeared at my side, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"You look like you're having fun," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"About as much fun as a root canal," I retorted. "Why are you here, anyway? I thought these things weren't your scene."
"I'm here for moral support," he grinned. "And to make sure you don't scare away any potential donors with your death stare."
I rolled my eyes. Liam had always been the social butterfly, the life of the party, the one who could charm anyone with his easygoing personality. He was my best friend, my confidant, and the only person who could get away with teasing me relentlessly.
"Speaking of potential donors," Liam said, his gaze shifting across the room, "I think I see one who might be particularly...generous."
I followed his gaze, and my breath caught in my throat. Across the crowded ballroom, bathed in the soft glow of the chandeliers, stood Claire.
She looked stunning. A simple but elegant dress clung to her curves, her auburn hair cascading down her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with a familiar intensity. She was talking to someone, laughing, her head thrown back in a way that reminded me of our childhood.
It was like a scene from a movie, the world fading away, leaving only her in sharp focus. All the carefully constructed barriers I'd erected around my heart crumbled at the sight of her.
"Wow," Liam breathed beside me. "She cleans up nice."
"Shut up, Liam," I muttered, my eyes glued to Claire.
I felt a strange mix of emotions swirling within me. Desire, longing, a touch of fear – all the feelings I'd tried so hard to suppress were now threatening to overwhelm me.
"Go talk to her," Liam urged, nudging me in the ribs. "What are you waiting for?"
"I can't," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm not ready."
"Not ready?" Liam scoffed. "Ethan, you've been 'not ready' for the past ten years. You'll never be ready if you don't take a chance."
He was right, of course. But taking a chance on Claire felt like jumping off a cliff, a leap of faith into the unknown.
Before I could argue any further, Liam grabbed my arm and dragged me across the room, weaving through the crowd of elegantly dressed guests.
"Liam, what are you doing?" I hissed.
"I'm giving you a push," he said, his grin widening. "You'll thank me later."
And then, before I knew it, we were standing in front of Claire.
"Claire," Liam said, his voice smooth and charming. "Fancy meeting you here. Ethan was just telling me how much he's been looking forward to seeing you again."
I shot Liam a glare, but Claire's eyes were already on me, her expression a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn't quite decipher.
"Ethan," she said, her voice soft. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"It's a charity event," I said, my voice a little rough. "I'm obligated to attend."
"Of course," she said, her smile polite but distant. "Well, it was nice seeing you both. I should probably mingle."
And then she turned to leave, but I couldn't let her go. Not yet.
"Claire, wait," I said, my hand reaching out to touch her arm.
Her skin was warm beneath my fingertips, and a jolt of electricity shot through me. It was a simple touch, but it felt like a connection, a reminder of the bond we'd once shared.
She turned back to me, her eyes questioning.
"Would you...would you like to dance?" I blurted out.
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I hadn't danced in years, not since...well, not since Claire left.
She looked surprised, her eyes widening slightly. "Dance?"
"Yeah," I said, my voice a little more confident now. "There's a great band playing. And I haven't danced with you in ages."
A hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "Ages?"
"Okay, maybe a decade," I conceded.
She hesitated for a moment, her gaze searching my face. And then, slowly, she nodded.
"Okay," she said. "I'd love to dance."
(Claire's POV)
I'd come to the gala to support a local arts program. It was a cause close to my heart, and I figured it was a good way to immerse myself back into the community. I did not come expecting to run into Ethan.
The moment I saw him across the room, my carefully constructed composure threatened to crumble. He looked like he belonged in a magazine spread, all sharp angles and quiet power. It was almost unfair how handsome he was.
And then Liam, ever the instigator, dragged him over. Liam had always been the bridge between Ethan and me, the one who could make us laugh, who could smooth over any awkwardness. He was a good friend, even if he was a bit of a troublemaker.
When Ethan asked me to dance, I was caught off guard. I hadn't danced with him since we were teenagers, clumsily swaying to slow songs at school dances, our hands sweaty, our hearts pounding.
The thought of holding him again, of feeling his hand on my waist, sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. It was dangerous, I knew, but I couldn't resist.
As we walked onto the dance floor, the band started playing a slow, romantic ballad. Ethan took my hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle. He placed his other hand on my waist, pulling me close.
And then we were dancing, our bodies moving in sync, our eyes locked on each other. It was like no time had passed, like we were still those teenagers, lost in our own little world.
The music swirled around us, the other dancers fading into a blur. All I could see was Ethan, his eyes searching mine, his expression a mixture of longing and vulnerability.
"You look beautiful, Claire," he said, his voice husky.
"Thank you," I murmured, my cheeks flushing.
"I've missed you," he said, his voice barely audible above the music.
My heart skipped a beat. I'd missed him too. More than I cared to admit.
"I've missed you too, Ethan," I confessed, my voice soft.
We danced in silence for a while, our bodies close, our breaths mingling. It was a moment of pure connection, a reminder of the deep bond we'd always shared.
But as the song ended, reality crashed back in. We were adults now, with different lives, different responsibilities, different scars.
"Thank you for the dance, Ethan," I said, stepping back from him.
"Anytime, Claire," he said, his eyes lingering on mine.
I turned to leave, but Liam stopped me.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his grin mischievous. "The night's still young."
"I have to go," I said, my voice firm. "I have things to do."
"Nonsense," Liam said. "Stay for a while. Have some fun. Ethan can keep you company."
I shot Liam a warning glare, but he just winked.
"I'd like that," Ethan said, his voice hopeful. "If you're not too busy."
I hesitated for a moment, torn between my desire to stay and my fear of getting hurt. But in the end, the desire won.
"Okay," I said, a small smile playing on my lips. "I'll stay for a while."
And as we walked away from the dance floor, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this night was the beginning of something new. Or maybe it was just a fleeting moment of nostalgia, a reminder of a past that could never be reclaimed. Only time would tell.