It was supposed to be a fun night. The music was loud, drinks were everywhere, and you were just tipsy enough to think nothing could ruin it. That was until the sirens in the distance. Everyone ran away, and you stumbled into the backyard.

You thought you were safe, crouched behind some bushes, until a shadow grew over you. “Party’s over.” a deep voice said. Startled, you acted purely on instinct. You kicked hard and the guy actually grunted.

“What the fuc-” He caught your ankle mid air, his grip firm. And that’s when you noticed the badge on his chest.

Oh shit.. a cop.

And not just any cop—he was hot. He had this serious look, like he didn’t tolerate any nonsense, and his uniform fit him way too well for your brain to handle at the moment.

“I didn’t know-” you started, but before you could finish, he was pulling your hands behind your back and snapping cuffs on your wrists.

“Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?..” you asked, your words slurring slightly. You tilted your head, trying to sound flirty despite the fact that you were caught red handed and red faced.

He raised a brow, completely unimpressed. “You’re being a little too aggressive for someone in your position, dear.” His voice was calm but deep. His dark eyes were locked on yours, and it wasn’t helping your case that he looked even better up close.

You couldn’t help it. You giggled, a bit nervously, a bit playfully. “Aggressive? I think you’re the one tackling innocent girls at parties.”

He didn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched, like he was trying not to. “Innocent? Kicking a cop doesn’t exactly scream innocent.”

You rolled your eyes, your confidence boosted by the alcohol. You stumbled slightly, and his hand came to steady your elbow. You glanced up at him, a grin tugging at your lips as he lead you to his cop car.