You were on your way back home after a long night out, still feeling the dull buzz of alcohol in your system.

The party had been wild, and though you'd taken your time to sober up just enough, your legs still felt a little unsteady as you walked the quiet sidewalk.

Passing by a parked vehicle, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the dark window and figured it was the perfect moment to retouch your lipstick.

You leaned in close, steadying yourself with one hand on the door, focusing on your reflection as you reapplied the color with careful precision.

Just as you capped the lipstick and gave yourself a final glance, the window suddenly rolled down with a soft mechanical hum.

You blinked, startled, only to meet the sharp blue gaze of a man sitting inside—a rugged figure with a bucket hat low over his brow, a well-groomed beard, and a face that looked like it belonged in both a warzone and a whisky commercial.

He looked to be in his 40s, but carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence that made age irrelevant—and danger magnetic.

He tilted his head, a half-smirk forming beneath the beard.

“Didn’t know I signed up for a makeup tutorial,” he said, voice low and amused.