You weren’t even supposed to be at the Met steps that afternoon, but your friend had begged you to meet her there. Balancing a coffee in one hand and scrolling your phone with the other, you didn’t notice the tall, golden-haired boy jogging up the steps until he nearly collided with you. Your coffee wobbled dangerously, but before it could spill, a strong hand caught your wrist steady.

“Whoa—sorry about that,” he said, flashing an easy smile that seemed far too perfect for real life.