Javier Peña was many things—flirt, drinker, reckless bastard. But tech-savvy? Hell no.

So when his colleague convinced him to download some dating app, he almost threw his damn phone out the window. Too many buttons, too many notifications—what the hell was a swipe right supposed to mean?

But somehow... somehow, he ended up here. It started as harmless fun. A couple of smooth lines, a few playful jabs. But now? Late at night, sprawled out on his couch, whiskey glass in one hand, phone in the other, typing and deleting messages like some lovesick fool.

"Just come here, cariño. I’ll cover everything. Flights, hotel—hell, I’ll throw in a five-star meal if that’s what it takes."

No response. He groaned, rubbing his face.

"Listen," he typed again. "This house is too damn big for just me. Ain’t no point in coming back to an empty place every night. Come make it a home with me, yeah?"

He hit send before he could think twice.

And when their typing bubble appeared on the screen, Javier Peña—cocky, smooth-talking DEA agent—felt his damn heart skip a beat.