I know, I know—it's been a while. If this were a real New Year's party, we'd already be making plans for next year. But hey, what's a little time between friends? Huge thanks for all the reviews —y'all make this so much fun to write! Now, grab a drink (or pretend to), because this New Year's Eve party is finally happening. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

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Mercedes was standing at the entrance of her building, clutching her coat tight against the evening air. A taxi rolled up to the curb, and as the door swung open, Sam stepped out, his presence immediately warming the cold night.

"You didn't have to get out," she teased as he pulled her into a hug.

"I missed you." he murmured against her hair, his arms tightening around her. It had been over a week since their last date, right before Christmas—longer than either of them had expected.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she smiled, brushing her fingers over his arm. "I missed you too."

As they slid into the taxi, Mercedes shivered, though whether from the cold or the way Sam's hand found hers, fingers lacing together, she wasn't sure. The city lights blurred past as he told her about his Christmas in Nashville—how much his grandparents had spoiled him, how good it felt to be home for a few days.

"And my grandpa still insists on beating everyone at cards," he said, shaking his head. "Cheats like it's an Olympic sport. Says it's part of the strategy."

Mercedes chuckled. "Sounds like a fun time."

Sam glanced at her, his expression softening. "They'd love you. Granny would probably pull you straight into the kitchen, though," he added, smirking. "Put you to work like you've been part of the family for years."

"I wouldn't mind," she grinned "Just as long as she doesn't make me play cards with your grandpa."

The conversation flowed easily, but as they neared their destination, Mercedes felt her nerves creeping in. The streets grew quieter, the buildings taller, and her palms began to feel clammy. The weight of meeting his friends—on New Year's Eve, no less—sank in.

Then came the penthouse.

The moment she stepped inside, she knew two things: one, Sam had seriously downplayed just how rich he was. Two, she looked damn good tonight, and she planned to enjoy every second of it.

The energy hit her instantly - the music, the lively conversation, the effortless elegance of a room filled with people who had probably never worried about splitting rent. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the skyline, casting reflections against marble floors. Somewhere near the bar, someone popped open a bottle of champagne. New Year's Eve in the city—glamorous, effervescent, and brimming with the electric promise of something new.

"So, this is your world, huh?" she murmured, leaning slightly into Sam.

His gaze flicked to her, instantly attuned to the tension in her voice. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said quickly, then sighed. "I just... I don't know what to expect."

Sam held her hand firmly as they walked in, his touch grounding her. It was as if he could sense her unease and wanted to remind her she wasn't alone. "You'll be fine." He gave her hand another reassuring squeeze before leading her further into the room.

As expected, Sam's friends were a mix of welcoming, teasing, and mildly chaotic—the kind of group that felt more like a family than just friends, like her own little group.

The first to approach was a broad-shouldered guy with a mischievous glint in his eye, already slinging an arm around Sam's shoulder like an older brother. Beside him, a woman stood with her arms crossed, watching the interaction with an amused smirk.

"Mercedes," Sam said, gesturing between them, "These are Puck and Lauren."

Puck gave her an assessing once-over, like he was appraising a luxury car. "So, you're the infamous Mercedes." He let out a low whistle. "Gotta say, Sam upgraded."

Lauren smacked his arm before Mercedes could respond. "Oh my God, ignore him." Then she turned to Mercedes, giving her an approving nod. "But, for the record? You're hot. I like you already."

Mercedes arched a brow, smirking. "That's a relief. I was worried I'd have to win you over with some dramatic toast or a duel."

Lauren grinned. "Well, the night is young."

Before she could fire back, a new voice broke in.

"Oh, you're gorgeous!"

Mercedes barely had time to register the statement before a petite girl with wide, expressive eyes practically materialized in front of her. Next to her, a guy in glasses sipped his drink, looking equal parts amused and resigned.

"You must be Sugar," Mercedes guessed, glancing at Sam.

"I love that I have a reputation," Sugar preened, tossing her hair.

"And this is Artie," Sam said, nodding toward the guy beside her.

Artie offered a lazy smile. "Nice to finally meet the woman who's got Sam acting like a lovesick teenager."

Sam groaned. "Oh my God."

"You didn't even tell us!" Sugar huffed, smacking Sam's arm.

"Because I knew this would happen," Sam muttered.

Mercedes chuckled nervously, shaking her head. "You all act like I'm some mythical creature he's been hiding away."

Sugar dramatically clutched her chest. "You kinda are." Then, lowering her voice, she added, "By the way, you don't have to worry about Sam's ex. She's, like, aggressively uninteresting."

Mercedes blinked, the words landing like an offbeat note in a song.

Sam's ex.

Before she could process it, Sam's voice cut through.

"Mercedes, this is my brother Steve and his fiancée Quinn."

Mercedes turned to see a man who was unmistakably related to Sam—same sharp jawline, same easy posture, though with a more serious air. Beside him, Quinn was effortlessly polished—blonde, poised, and carrying the kind of quiet confidence that suggested she never had to raise her voice to be heard.

"It's so nice to meet you," Mercedes said, extending her hand.

Quinn took it, her grip firm but friendly. "You too. Sam's been talking about you."

"Hopefully all good things," Mercedes said lightly.

"All good," Steve confirmed, his voice warm and reassuring. "It's great to finally meet the woman who's been keeping Sam so distracted lately."

Mercedes laughed, though her cheeks warmed. "I'm not sure I'd put it that way."

"Don't let him tease you," Quinn rolled her eyes, her tone softer now. "Steve likes to give everyone a hard time."

As the conversation drifted to lighter topics, Sam and Steve fell into a discussion about an upcoming game, leaving Mercedes and Quinn standing off to the side.

"So," Quinn said, her smile faint but genuine, "how did you and Sam meet?"

"At his office," Mercedes said, a small smile tugging at her lips at the memory. "I went with a friend to a dental appointment. A few days later, we ran into each other again. It was pouring, and I didn't have an umbrella, so he offered me a ride."

Quinn tilted her head slightly. "That's... surprisingly normal for him. He's not usually the type to mix work and personal life."

Mercedes raised an eyebrow, unsure how to take that. "Well, I guess I got lucky."

Quinn studied her for a moment, then nodded. "You must have made quite the impression. He doesn't let just anyone in."

The words hung in the air, carrying something more than just casual conversation.

Mercedes tilted her head. "Meaning?"

Quinn's smile remained, but something flickered behind her eyes—sympathy, maybe, or quiet understanding. "Nothing you need to worry about tonight," she said lightly. "Just… know I'm here if you ever need someone to chat."

Mercedes frowned slightly, the word worry lingering in her mind. But before she could press further, Steve called Quinn over from across the room.

Mercedes exhaled, shaking off the moment. Later, she told herself. She'd figure it out later.

She looked at Sam, who was now laughing with another group of friends, his easy charm on full display. She liked seeing him like this—relaxed, surrounded by people who knew him in ways she was still learning.

"Alright, since it's New Year's Eve," Puck's voice rang out, cutting through the noise of conversation, "it's only fair we have a proper send-off for the year."

Mercedes turned just in time to see him lift a bottle of tequila.

Lauren groaned. "Puck, no."

Puck grinned, unfazed. "Puck, yes." He turned to Mercedes. "The real test of whether you fit in or not—can you beat Sam at shots?"

Mercedes arched a brow, looking between him and Sam. "Is that supposed to be hard?"

Sam chuckled. "Don't let him rope you into this."

"Oh, no," Mercedes said, taking the shot glass. "Now I have to do it."

The group cheered as Mercedes and Sam faced off, each with a row of three shot glasses.

Lauren counted down. "Three… two… one… GO!"

Mercedes threw back her first shot like a pro, barely wincing as the burn hit. Sam kept pace, grinning as they moved to the second. By the third shot, Mercedes slammed her glass down first, smirking triumphantly.

The room erupted.

Puck gaped. "Well, damn."

Artie grinned. "I like her."

Sam wiped his lips, shaking his head. "You're full of surprises."

Mercedes leaned in, voice low. "Oh, babe. You have no idea."

The noise of the party swelled around them. The tequila had been poured, toasts had been made, and the burn of the first shot still lingered in her throat. Time blurred into something easy, effortless.

She and Sam danced—sometimes with the group, sometimes just the two of them, moving in sync to the pulse of the music. Later, at the bar, she found herself in a deep conversation with Lauren about the best way to fake confidence in a room full of intimidating people.

"Head high, drink in hand, and act like you own the place," Lauren said, clinking her glass against Mercedes'.

Mercedes smirked. "And if that doesn't work?"

"Find the hottest person in the room and make them obsessed with you. Well, second hottest." Lauren smirked and shot Sam a pointed glance. "Looks like you already figured that one out."

Later, she found herself comfortably tucked against Sam's side on the couch, half-listening as he discussed an upcoming trip with Steve while his hand traced slow, absentminded patterns against her back. She felt… good. Relaxed. Warm in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

Somewhere in the background, Sugar was dramatically recounting a past failed New Year's kiss, complete with hand gestures and reenactments.

A few moments later, someone suggested a group picture before midnight. Mercedes instinctively stepped to the side, letting them gather, but before she could fully move away, Sam caught her wrist.

"Not so fast," he murmured, pulling her in beside him. She felt his warmth immediately, his arm sliding naturally around her waist.

"Say new year, new drama!" Sugar called out. The camera clicked, capturing the moment.

Mercedes looked up at Sam, just in time to catch the way he was already looking at her.

And damn, if that didn't make her feel something.

As the party revved up for the countdown, Sam gently pulled her aside to a quieter part of the balcony. The city glittered beneath them, the noise muffled just enough to feel intimate.

"So, first impressions?"

Mercedes flashed him a teasing smile. "Solid eight out of ten. Points deducted for your brother looking at me like I'm an exam question and Puck asking how serious this is within five minutes."

Sam laughed. "Fair. Though I'm choosing to believe you only deducted points to keep me humble."

"Oh, absolutely," she nodded. "Wouldn't want you thinking you're too irresistible."

Sam leaned in slightly, voice dropping. "I don't need to think it. You're already acting like you can't resist me."

She arched a brow, unfazed. "Big words for someone who hasn't stopped touching me all night."

"Guilty." He grinned.

She smirked, but before she could throw something back, the room erupted into another round of cheers as someone shouted about the countdown starting soon.

Mercedes glanced around at the celebration, then back at Sam. "Are we supposed to make a resolution or something?" she asked, tilting her head at him.

"We could. But I feel like resolutions are just well-dressed lies we tell ourselves."

Mercedes arched a brow. "Optimistic."

"Realistic," he corrected, then leaned in slightly. "But if I had to make one, it'd be… to have more nights like this."

A slow, knowing smile curled her lips.

The waiter slipped by, topping off their glasses as a countdown timer glowed across the room. Two minutes to midnight. A new year. A new beginning. A line they hadn't crossed yet but had both been inching toward, teasing, testing. And now, no more teasing.

The world counted down in the background—ten, nine, eight—but she was only aware of him. The way his fingers tapped lightly against the base of his glass, the way his gaze dipped to her lips before lifting back to her eyes.

…Three, two, one.

Cheers erupted around them, laughter, kisses exchanged in every corner of the room.

Sam exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Guess this is the part where I say Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Sam." Mercedes smiled, setting her glass down. "Now this is the part where you kiss me again."

No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just Sam, leaning in, closing the space between them with a kiss that felt as inevitable as the clock striking midnight.

And just like that, the year began exactly as it should.

Somewhere in the background, the bass kicked up, and a sultry beat spilled through the speakers. A few feet away, couples swayed and moved to the rhythm, bodies pressed close, lost in the music and the champagne glow of the night. Mercedes let her fingers slide down his tie, then gave it a small tug, pulling him just a fraction closer.

"You know, Evans," she murmured, her tone dripping with challenge. "As fun as this party is, I hear the real celebration happens after. Somewhere more...private."

Sam's eyes darkened slightly, a slow grin spreading.

"Yeah?"

He let her pull him deeper, his hands settling low at her waist. They moved together, slow at first, teasing. His grip was firm, his touch easy, like he was savoring the moment, letting it stretch just enough to drive her crazy. She could feel his breath against her temple, the way his fingers traced the fabric of her dress ever so lightly. The tension crackled, thick as the city air just before a storm.

"Sam! Mercedes!"

The moment broke as Puck's voice rang out, followed by the sound of glasses clinking. They barely had time to step apart before the rest of the group closed in around them, all cheers and laughter.

"There you are!" Sugar beamed, throwing her arms around them both. "Happy New Year, guys!"

Lauren handed them fresh glasses of champagne, while Artie nudged Sam with a knowing smirk. "You two looked real cozy over there."

Sam rolled his eyes "We were dancing, Artie."

"Uh-huh." Puck raised his glass. "To new beginnings... and whatever comes after," he said, winking at them.

Sam exhaled, shaking his head with a smirk. "Hold that thought," he murmured just for her, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek before turning toward his friends.

Mercedes sipped her drink, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. Hold that thought, she echoed silently, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on her cheek.

Thankfully, the wait didn't last long.

One moment, they were stepping out of the taxi, and the next, Sam was tugging her inside, his lips already claiming hers before they even reached the entrance. Mercedes found herself pinned against the cool metal wall of his elevator, Sam's mouth hot and demanding against hers. She barely registered the quiet ding of the doors closing behind them—barely cared, honestly, because all she could focus on was the way he fit against her,

"Guess we're not making it to the apartment first?" she teased breathlessly as he kissed down the line of her jaw.

"Not my fault," Sam murmured against her skin. "You started it."

Mercedes arched a brow, tilting her chin to give him better access. "Oh, I started it?"

"Mm-hmm." He nipped at her pulse. "Teasing me like that all night."

Before she could fire back, the elevator chimed, the doors gliding open to reveal the dimly lit hallway. Sam pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his lips curving in that slow, deliberate, predatory way that sent a thrill straight through her. He was just too fucking sexy.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice warm, teasing.

Mercedes mirrored his smile. "You have no idea."

And with that, he took her hand, leading her inside.