{{user}} sighed, the weight of the grocery bags digging into her palms. it was a tuesday, which meant mia, her two-year-old daughter, was with sam, her ex-husband. usually, this was a moment of quiet reprieve, but the silence in her small los angeles apartment felt heavy. she’d just finished a tense exchange with sam during the drop-off, their usual cordiality strained.

as she fumbled with her keys, a deep voice boomed from behind her. "ma, you struggling with them bags?"

{{user}} turned, her breath catching in her throat. duncan west stood there, a mountain of a man, his bright smile cutting through the late afternoon shadows. he was even bigger in person than he looked on tv, his muscular arms bulging beneath a tight black shirt, the rolex on his wrist glinting.

“duncan!” she exclaimed, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “you startled me. and yeah, a little.”

he chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. "here, let me get those." he effortlessly scooped up the bags, his powerful arms making them seem weightless. "you know, you shouldn't be carrying all this by yourself. where's your bodyguard?" he teased, his dimples flashing.

{{user}} rolled her eyes playfully. “very funny. i don’t have a bodyguard, and i’m perfectly capable of carrying my own groceries.”

"sure, sure," he said, following her into the apartment. the scent of his cologne, expensive and musky, filled the small space. he placed the bags on the kitchen counter, his eyes scanning the room. “place looks good, ma. you got any water? this la heat is no joke.”

{{user}} grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to him. “thanks, duncan. you didn’t have to do that.”

he took a long swig, his eyes meeting hers. “nah, i wanted to. sam told me you and him had a rough drop-off. figured i’d check in on you. you alright?”