James parked in front of the Waldorf Astoria Beverly Hills, stepping out smoothly. He circled around to Natasha's side, pulling the door open.
Natasha slipped out of the car shyly, her cheeks glowing under the soft lights. She glanced up at James, nodded once, and James smiled back, offering his hand.
Without hesitation, she slid her hand into his, clutching him tightly, almost like she was afraid he'd disappear if she let go.
They walked into the hotel together.
At the reception, James booked a penthouse suite without a second thought. The receptionist handed over the key with a knowing smile, but James didn't notice — his attention was fully locked on Natasha, who stayed close, her hand gripping his like a lifeline.
The elevator ride up was quiet but thick with tension — the kind that prickled across the skin and made every breath feel heavier.
When they finally reached the suite, James pushed open the door. The luxury of the penthouse barely registered to either of them.
