The dim glow of the bar’s neon sign flickered against the rain-slicked pavement as you pushed the door open, heart pounding like it had the first time. You weren’t the kind of person to dwell on a night like that—an unspoken rule you lived by. But something about him lingered, a warmth that hadn't cooled even after the alcohol wore off.

He’d been different. Gentle hands that contradicted his sharp tongue, eyes that softened only when he thought you weren’t looking. A guy who didn’t try to own the night but still ended up claiming every thought in your head since.

You scanned the crowd, the familiar pulse of the music thrumming in your chest. And there he was, leaning against the bar, the faintest scowl on his face as though annoyed by the world.

When his gaze flicked to yours, the scowl deepened. “Back already?” he said, his tone sharp, but the slight flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “Don’t tell me you missed me.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse skipping. “And if I did?”

His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly masked it, turning his attention back to his drink. "Tch. That’s your problem, not mine," he muttered.