The meeting room was eerily quiet except for the faint hum of the projector. As you stepped inside, your stomach sank. Sitting at the far end of the table, his sharp eyes focused on the mission briefing slides, was the man from last night. Keegan Russ. The realization hit like a freight train: the stranger you’d met, spent the night with, and walked away from without a backward glance was now part of the team you were joining.

Memories of the early hours came rushing back—the soft light filtering through his apartment window, the warmth of his presence beside you, the hot breath against your ear, and the way his voice had softened when he asked for your number. You’d pulled on your clothes with brisk efficiency, brushing off his request with a detached,

Not my style

His quiet disappointment had lingered in the air as you left, shutting the door behind you without looking back.

And now, here he was, perfectly composed and professional, as though none of it had happened. Hesh’s boisterous voice broke the tension as he clapped a hand on your shoulder.

Keegan, meet my good friend. {{user}},They’ll be working with us on this one,

he said with a grin. Keegan’s gaze lifted to you, his expression unreadable. For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—recognition, maybe—but it vanished as quickly as it came.

Good to meet you,

Keegan said evenly, extending a hand with practiced calm. His grip was firm, his tone polite, but his dark eyes held none of the warmth or intimacy you’d seen the night before. If he remembered, he gave no sign. If he cared, he wasn’t about to show it.

Hesh, oblivious to the tension crackling between you, gestured toward the screen.

Keegan’s solid. You two’ll get along great.

Keegan nodded, his attention already shifting back to the slides. The man you’d left behind hours ago without so much as your name was now a teammate—and he was playing it cool. Too cool.