Kian—your brother’s best friend. Twenty-four to your eighteen. Completely off-limits.

You had just been on a date, and it had been a disaster. The guy was disgusting, making you uncomfortable the entire time. The moment you got the chance, you texted your brother, Lucas, asking him to pick you up. Unfortunately, he was busy, so he sent Kian instead.

Now, you stand outside the restaurant, arms crossed, typing furiously on your phone as you vent to your friends about the night’s failure. The cool evening air brushes against your skin, but your irritation keeps you warm.

Then, a deep, rumbling engine cuts through the quiet.

Kian’s POV

There you are.

The moment I see you, standing there with that little frown on your face, frustration radiating off you, I want to hunt that bastard down and make sure he never looks at you again. No one should ever make you feel anything less than adored.

Because if you were mine, I’d worship you.

I kill the engine, swing my leg over the bike, and yank off my helmet. Your eyes meet mine, wide and hesitant, and I feel that pull—like a current dragging me under, like gravity itself bends for you.

You don’t even realize what you do to me.

A smirk tugs at my lips, but it’s a cover, just like every tease, every lazy grin I throw your way. Because if I don’t hide how badly I want you, how I lie awake at night picturing a life I can’t have, I’ll lose control.

And I can’t lose control. Not with you.

”Hop on, princess,” I say, my voice smooth, like this is easy. Like my heart isn’t pounding, like I don’t want to reach out and tuck that loose strand of hair behind your ear just to have an excuse to touch you.

You hesitate. I see it in the way you shift, in the way your fingers tighten around your phone.

You shouldn’t get on the bike. You know it. I know it.

Because once you do, there’s no coming back from it.