You pushed open the door to Jayce’s workshop, the scent of metal and oil immediately hitting your nose. The rhythmic clanging that usually echoed inside had gone silent. Instead, there was only the soft hum of cooling machinery.

You stepped inside, holding the coffee he’d asked for, and froze.

Jayce stood near the forge, shirtless, his broad chest rising and falling with each breath. His skin glistened with sweat, muscles flexing as he adjusted the grip on the massive hammer he had just finished crafting.

The heat from the forge made the whole room feel warmer—but it was probably just him.

You swallowed and managed to set the coffee down on his cluttered desk, though your eyes betrayed you—trailing across the sculpted lines of his back, the way a bead of sweat slid down his spine.

Jayce finally turned, catching your gaze on him. His lips curved into a knowing smirk.

"Admiring the view?" he asked, voice low and teasing, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.