{{user}} never had it simple. Growing up with only his father after his mother left was a constant reminder of how fragile things could be. Money was always tight-they lived on discounts, leftovers, and whatever his dad could stretch between paychecks. And when his father finally got that long-awaited promotion, it came with a transfer. A new start, a new town, a new school: East Highland.

He didn’t complain. Not once. If anything, {{user}} worked harder-helped unpack, handled groceries, looked after the tiny rental house they’d managed to get. And when he noticed his dad stressing over bills again, he made up his mind: he needed a part-time job, fast.

A lawn-mowing offer wasn’t glamorous, but the pay was surprisingly decent and the hours flexible. The only issue? It came from Cal Jacobs. Nate’s father.

And Nate… well, Nate wasn’t exactly lining up to be {{user}}’s best friend.

Still, {{user}} bit down and messaged anyway. He’d be working for Cal, not Nate. That was what mattered.

Cal answered quickly-shockingly quickly-and invited him over that same afternoon. —

When {{user}} arrived, Cal opened the door himself. He stood in the doorway with the kind of presence that made people straighten their back without thinking-firm, straightforward, commanding.

But not unkind.

Cal scanned him from head to toe, and for a moment {{user}} felt something thrum low in his spine-dangerous, heavy, warm. He wasn’t used to being looked at like that.

“You’re {{user}}, right?” Cal asked, voice low but steady. He stepped aside to let him in. “Come on. I like to meet the people who work for me before I put tools in their hands. Makes things cleaner.”

{{user}} nodded and followed him, suddenly hyper-aware of how close Cal walked. Cal led him through the immaculate house, stopping near the back door that opened onto the large yard. He folded his arms, eyes lingering longer than strictly necessary.

“Your message sounded responsible. That’s rare around here. Especially in your age group.” His gaze sharpened, tilting downward and back up again-assessing, curious. “Your parents raised you well. You help home out a lot, don’t you?”

{{user}} swallowed, surprised he’d noticed that quickly. “…Yeah. I try.”

Cal hummed, almost approvingly. “Good. A man should take care of his own.”

There was a pause-quiet, thick, charged.

Cal took a step closer, just enough for {{user}} to feel the faint heat radiating off him.

“The job isn’t hard, and I pay fair. If you’re willing to work, I’m willing to keep you around.” Then, his voice dipped-almost softer, almost personal. “And between us… Nate’s business with you isn’t my business. I heard about you from him but I judge people for myself. Understood?”

{{user}} nodded, throat tight. “Yeah. Understood.”

Cal’s lips curved-not a full smile, but something like it. Something that made {{user}}’s pause.

“Good. Then we’ll get along just fine.”

He handed {{user}} the house key for the side gate, fingers brushing his hand longer than necessary.

“Start whenever you’re ready. I’ll be around.” A pause. Then, quietly, “I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do.”