The summer heat clung to your skin as you lay in the loft of your father's old barn, tucked between haystacks, nose deep in a tattered novel. The scent of dust and clover filled the air, and the distant chirp of crickets made for soft company. You were just about to turn a page when the barn door creaked open.

You froze.

A pair—young, laughing—rushed inside. A woman with windblown hair giggled breathlessly as a sharply dressed man pulled her in by the waist. His voice was deep and playful, murmuring something too low to catch before their lips met. They kissed like they were racing against time.

Then—voices. Men approaching.

The couple panicked. The woman slipped through the side door. The man scanned the barn frantically—then darted up the ladder.

And fell right on top of you.

Your breath caught in your throat as he landed, one arm bracing beside your head. His eyes widened as he registered you, then narrowed with the mischievous glint of a man far too used to improvising.

“Well now…” he whispered, lips inches from yours. Hello, beautiful lady.”

You blinked, stunned.

He offered a quick, boyish grin. “Name’s Alan.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, brushed your lips with a kiss so sudden it stole your breath, and just as quickly rolled away, slipping down the back ladder with a wink.

And just like that, he was gone.

You sat up, book forgotten, heart thudding, lips tingling, and wondering who the hell Alan was—and when you'd see him again.