The bass from the music inside the cramped Laredo house was rattling the ice in your cup, but it was just background noise compared to the sudden spike in your heart rate. Across the room, leaning casually against a doorframe with a bottle of beer in his hand, was Javier Peña. It had been years, nearly a decade, since he’d been around. When you were in middle school, he was just your older brother’s friend, the guy who would kick a soccer ball in the front yard and then sit at your kitchen table eating your mom’s cooking while complaining about the heat.

Now, he was retired from the DEA, back in town, and looking far too handsome in a button down shirt that was unbuttoned just enough to be dangerous. You felt his gaze intensify, moving from the crowd to fix directly on you. He wasn't just looking; he was studying you, his dark eyes analyzing the person you had become, rather than the one he used to ignore while talking to your brother. It sent a jolt of electricity straight down your spine.

You’d had a massive crush on him back then, a secret intensity fueled by the danger and mystery of his job, but you had never dared to make a move. He never spared a glance from his old girlfriend. But the way he was looking at you now made it feel like all those years of secrecy were evaporating. Needing air and a moment to breathe, you slipped away from the living room and stepped out into the humid Texas night.

The backyard was quiet, illuminated only by strings of Edison bulbs hanging between two oak trees. You walked over to the patio railing, pulled a cigarette from your pack, and lit it, enjoying the sudden solitude. A moment later, the screen door clicked softly. You didn't need to turn around to know it was him. The scent of familiar cologne and cheap tobacco reached you before he spoke.

"Trying to catch cancer or somethin'?"

You turned, a small smile playing on your lips as Javier stepped beside you, leaning his back against the rail.

"Just trying to survive this party, Peña."

He chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that brought back a rush of memories. He looked at the cigarette between your fingers, then back to your eyes.

"I remember when you used to cough just walking past your brother smoking in the garage."

"People change," you shrugged, taking a drag. "Want one?"

He hesitated, looking at the cigarette with a longing that seemed absurd for a man who had faced down drug lords.

"Nah," he sighed, shaking his head. "Trying to quit. For the fifth time this year."

You smirked, leaning in slightly. "I tried that once. Didn't work."

Javier laughed again, but the sound died down quickly, replaced by a heavy, magnetic silence. He was studying your face again, looking at you not as your brother’s little sister, but as a grown woman. The intense, focused gaze that must have terrified suspects in an interrogation room was now directed entirely at you, making you feel incredibly vulnerable and thrillingly alive.

He finally shifted his weight, closing the small gap between you.

"So," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, "I heard college didn't go as planned?"