Eli Moretti was a firefighter. He was handsome, brooding, mysterious. He was the biggest man you’d ever seen—tall, broad, pure muscle.

You were a college student. Reckless, carefree, and wild. Everything he wasn’t.

You had small interactions with him over the time you were in college. Like a dorm fire that had forced you to wait outside with the rest of the residents in your towel and wet from a shower. Times where luck wasn’t on your side.

Because of this, he kept an extra eye out for you.