Miley’s POV The studio emptied out slowly until it was just the two of us — the last echoes of laughter fading into the soft hum of the speakers. Jordan tossed his hoodie aside, leaving him in a simple black tee that clung to his chest and made it very hard to focus on anything productive. He caught me staring, smirked. “You gonna keep eyeing me like that, or are we gonna dance?” I rolled my eyes, pretending to stretch. “You wish.” He stepped closer, that boyish grin playing on his lips. “Yeah, actually, I do.” I shook my head, trying to hide the smile tugging at my mouth. “You’re impossible.” “Maybe,” he said, circling behind me, “but I’m a great dancer.” The music started — a slow rhythm, something with emotion in every beat. I moved first, letting muscle memory take over, but when his hand slid gently against my waist, guiding me into a spin, I froze for half a second. He was gentle. No teasing, no sharp comments. Just a careful touch, like he was afraid to break me. “Re
Last Updated : 2025-10-08 Read more