You hadn’t planned on swearing off love—it just sort of happened. Your divorce had drained you, left you raw, and honestly? You were tired. Tired of promises that didn’t last. Tired of believing in things that always seemed to fall apart.

So when your best friend asked you to be her maid of honor, you agreed because, well, she deserved happiness. Even if the idea of romance made you roll your eyes now.

The wedding was beautiful, of course. Soft string lights, warm laughter, and the scent of roses filling the air. But the moment you truly let your guard down was when you found yourself coloring. Yes, coloring. The reception hall had little packs of crayons for the kids, and somewhere between avoiding awkward conversations and sipping your drink, you had started doodling tiny flowers on your name tag.

And that’s when you felt it.

Eyes on you.

You glanced up to see him—a man with a sharp suit and an even sharper gaze, sitting at the table next to you, watching with amusement. When your eyes met, he didn’t look away. Instead, he smirked, like he found the sight of a grown woman coloring at a wedding absolutely entertaining.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “What?” you asked, half-laughing, trying to cover your name tag.

“You’re missing some shading on that petal,” he said, effortlessly leaning in closer.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. Small talk turned into laughter, and before you knew it, he was moving to your table, switching name tags with the poor guy who had originally been assigned there.

You had sworn off men. But maybe—just maybe—this one was an exception.