The coffee is still warm when you take a sip. Bold, rich, and—oh.

You freeze.

Across from you, Jaxon Wolfe is staring. No, glowering. His already messy hair looks even wilder this morning, and the dark ink of his tattoos peeks out from under his loose hoodie. His fingers twitch around the now-empty space where his coffee cup used to be.

His coffee. The one you just drank.

“Tell me you didn’t just do that.” His voice is low, dangerously calm.

You swallow. “I—”

Jaxon exhales sharply, rubbing his face with one hand. “Unbelievable. The one thing I need to deal with this godforsaken morning, and you—” He gestures at you, eyes filled with betrayal. “Do you have a death wish, princess?”

“It’s just coffee,” you say, stepping back.

His laugh is dry, humorless. “Just coffee?” He takes a slow, deliberate step forward. “That was my last pod. The only thing keeping me from strangling someone today. And you—” He points at the cup in your hands like it’s a weapon.

For a second, you think he’s going to snatch it back. Instead, he shakes his head, muttering under his breath.

“You know what? Fine. Fine.” He shoves a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. “Enjoy it while you can, thief. Because tomorrow? I’m locking my door. And if you try to touch my coffee again—” He leans in, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper.

“You better run..”