Armand was easy to find, standing just around the corner from the bar. He stiffened when the doors swung open, expecting it to be Ryan, and instead relieved to see it was just Natalie. “Hey.” He said, looking behind her to ensure she wasn’t being followed out, but it seemed Ryan had said everything he needed to say. “I didn’t go in there looking for a fight.” Armand found himself instantly apologised the moment she was close enough.

She nodded, sympathetic and confused on whose side she was supposed to be on. “Ryan is just going through a tough time right now.” Natalie was lying to him, and she felt Armand knew it. His hands were hidden in his jeans pockets, arms straight as he shoved them deeper. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge that Natalie was just being polite and trying to cover for her boyfriend. “I’ll talk to him about it later,” Natalie promised.

“He is just jealous. I suppose it is to be expected.” Armand sighed, looking down at his shoes as she tried to add to her excuses with lies of his own. “He has nothing to be jealous of.” He had said the line earlier, and Armand had been repeating it to himself for days as he continued to make excuses to see Natalie and try to convince himself that he just wanted to be her friend, and Armand was satisfied with that.

Natalie bit her lip, crossing her arms over her chest to try and starve off the winter chill in the air. “Really?” she asked. Natalie didn’t feel brave when she asked him. Her heart was pounding, and she immediately wished she could take it back. Natalie wanted to know some truth but wasn’t ready to hear it. Was everything Natalie had thought about really one-sided, or was it possible that maybe Armand was coming to The Rhythm Fox to see her?

He hesitated for a moment. Sensing her shivering, he smoothly slid out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. "I don't want to give him an excuse for what happened here tonight," Armand whispered, his hands strategically holding the jacket close around her, fingers subtly grazing the curve of her bust and settling at her waist. Their proximity became charged with an unspoken tension.

Natalie, looking up at him, silently questioned her reaction to what was a simple display of chivalry. "I won't tell him, Armand, I just..." Her words trailed off, her thoughts lost in the unfamiliar closeness. The scent of Armand's aftershave enveloped her, and she was captivated by every detail—the stubble on his face, the taste of his breath against her lips. Swallowing hard, she licked her lips in anticipation, unsure of the emotions stirring within her.

"You're cold," Armand accused, pulling her even closer within the shelter of his jacket.

"You are avoiding the question," Natalie challenged, stepping toward him instead of pulling away. Deliberately closing the gap, she knew that he could feel her body against his and her eyes searched for some kind of reaction.

The dynamics shifted, and Armand recognized the pivotal moment to make their connection permanent. He needed to say the right words to keep her close, to make her forget everything else at that moment. "I'm lying," Armand confessed. "I have been meaning to kiss you since we met."

A sound escaped Natalie, a small celebration of a revelation that would resonate in her memory. It was a noise she had never made before, carrying the weight of an irreversible shift in their relationship. "Why haven't you?" she inquired, her curiosity mirrored in her raised eyebrow.

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"Because of him," Armand chuckled, acknowledging the obvious. He recognized that Ryan's fears weren't entirely unfounded, and Armand had been playing the role of the bigger man while harbouring his own flaws. "And also because of you," Natalie responded with a simple raised eyebrow. "You don't seem like the kind of girl who goes around just kissing boys who step on their hands.

"I didn't want to force you into a situation you would regret," Armand confessed, his eyes locked onto hers, revealing a vulnerability that transcended the pretence they had been living.

Natalie frowned. “Regret? Is there something wrong with being that kind of girl?” she asked him, a flirty smile tugging at the side of her mouth.

Armand felt the extraordinary little place they had created slipping away. Whatever moment had been there was slipping away and he could do nothing to bring it back. He had missed it, and now the reality of their situation, of what he wanted and how it could hurt other people, seemed all too real. Sighing, Armand shook his head “Natalie, what are we doing?” he asked her, trying to get some of that power back and knowing it was useless. This had always been her game to win, even when she didn’t realise they were playing. Natalie got to make the choices, and Armand and Ryan were her pawns.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, pressing her lips together. Her gaze briefly drifted towards the bar, but it quickly returned to Armand. "But it doesn't feel wrong." Natalie refused to dwell on the potential consequences. She was acutely aware that her actions could jeopardize everything she held dear, but an intoxicating primal force overruled her usual caution. This kind of reaction was entirely new to her; she had always attracted guys like Ryan—sweet, soft, and loving in every touch. Yet, tonight's deviation from Ryan's usual demeanour had propelled her into the arms of another man. What did that say about her?

Looking up at Armand, Natalie realized he was awaiting her permission. "I want you to kiss me."

Armand wasted no time. Utilizing his grip on the jacket, he effortlessly lifted her off her feet, capturing her lips in a heated and demanding kiss. At that moment, Armand took possession, and Natalie's eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. The jacket, now loosely draped around her shoulders, seemed insignificant as his hands explored her—firm at her hip and delicate at her neck—moulding her frame to his will. Armand knew no bounds, and Natalie was desperate to reciprocate, her hands finding their place on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

Unsatisfied with mere exploration, his hands roamed eagerly, and without hesitation, he pressed her against the brick wall of the bar. Encouraged by Natalie's response, he trailed kisses down her jaw and neck. Armand's hand found her breast, prompting a gasp to escape her lips. Natalie's back arched, pressing herself more firmly against his touch. Small and perfectly moulded to fit his hand, he massaged her through her clothes, causing Natalie's mouth to lose its rhythm in the kiss as soft moans of pleasure escaped her. The world around them blurred as their connection deepened, and the magnetic pull between them grew stronger with each shared breath.

She knew he was aroused. She could feel him firm and ready in his pants, and that was the thought that gave her pause. He had been wrong about one thing: she was the kind of girl who went around kissing boys. But she did not want to be the girl who had sex in the street.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it started, both of them staring up at each other, Natalie breathless and wide-eyed. "Come with me," Armand urged, and Natalie nodded, a sense of urgency filling the air. In that charged moment, he could have proposed anything, and she would have assented. Without a backward glance and scarcely a fleeting thought for Ryan, Armand hurried her into a waiting taxi, the engine's hum echoing the pulsating tension between them. The city lights blurred outside the window.