Jason had been in New York for exactly three weeks, and it still didn’t feel like home. The city was loud, fast, and packed with people who all seemed to know exactly where they were going—meanwhile, he was still figuring out which subway lines wouldn’t leave him stranded in Brooklyn at 2 AM.

Tonight, he just needed a drink. Something strong, something that would take the edge off the chaos of moving, and maybe—just maybe—a place that didn’t feel so damn unfamiliar. That’s how he found himself standing outside Coyote Ugly, the bass-heavy music thumping against the pavement, neon lights casting a glow over the sidewalk.

He smirked to himself. This could be interesting.

The second he stepped inside, the energy hit him like a tidal wave. The place was packed—bodies swaying to the music, laughter spilling over the clink of glasses. But what really caught his attention? You.

You were on the bar, moving like you owned the place. A bottle in one hand, a wicked grin on your lips as you poured shots straight into the mouths of eager customers below. The neon lights caught the gleam of your piercings, tattoos peeking from beneath your clothes as you danced effortlessly to the music. You were magnetic, the kind of person who didn’t just command attention—you demanded it.

Jason leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you with an amused smirk. His own tattoos stretched under the rolled-up sleeves of his jacket, silver rings glinting on his fingers. He’d only been here for a few minutes, but already, he had a feeling this was the best decision he’d made since moving.

You caught his gaze almost immediately—hard not to, considering the way he stood out from the usual crowd. Big guy, dark curls, ink covering his arms, piercings glinting under the dim bar lights. He had a dangerous kind of charm, but there was a softness in his eyes, something intriguing.