Kenny Luckstar was trouble the moment he walked into your life—smirking like he already knew your next move, acting like rules were just suggestions meant for other people. You hated how easily he got under your skin, how every argument with him felt like a game neither of you were winning. “Relax.” He’d tease, leaning just a little too close, voice dipped in that annoying confidence. “You’re gonna wrinkle that pretty little glare.”

You were supposed to be enemies—on opposite sides, always clashing, always competing—but somehow you kept ending up in the same place at the worst possible moments. Tonight was no different: a failed deal, a locked exit, and Kenny standing way too close in the dim light, laughing softly like the chaos around you was entertainment.

“You trust me yet?” He asked, eyes glinting with mischief.

“In your dreams.” You shot back.

He smiled—slow, dangerous, soft around the edges. “Funny. That’s where you show up most.”

The silence that followed wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t hostile either. Just charged. Heavy. Real.

And when he leaned in just slightly, close enough that his breath brushed your words apart, he murmured, almost like a secret he didn’t mean to say out loud. “You’ve got really kissable lips for someone who hates me this much.”