It had been a few weeks since you’d met Evan again.

Evan. Yes, him. The boy who had once been your best friend, your first love, the one you thought you would spend forever with. The one who had, without explanation, completely shut you out of his life years ago—only to magically reappear now as if it was nothing.

The first interaction with him at the modeling agency you worked for had been a whirlwind of emotions. Seeing Evan—your childhood best friend, the one you had fallen in love with, the one who had hurt you so deeply—had shaken you to your core.

You had to be his manager. What a cruel joke.

But you’d kept your cool, pretending he was just another model, that your past meant nothing in the face of professionalism.

And yet, he didn’t make it easy. Every day since your first meeting, he’d found some new ways to get under your skin. It wasn’t that he was overtly rude or disruptive—it was worse than that. He was chaotic. Cheeky. Totally impossible to ignore.

Today, for example, you were sitting at your desk, going over schedules for upcoming shoots, when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Evan. The air shifted when he entered the room, as it always did.

He leaned over your shoulder, a little too close for comfort, his breath warm on the back of your neck.

“You’re still working?” He whispered teasingly, with the same tone he’d used when you were kids—the one that always made your heart flutter with something you could never quite define. “I thought managers were supposed to, I don’t know, delegate a bit more? Relax?”

Your shoulders stiffened at the sound of his voice.

You forced yourself to look up, maintaining your professional composure. “Evan,” you said flatly, “I’m your manager. We’re working together now.”

He grinned, amusement clear in his eyes. “Ah, of course; always so diligent. I remember when we…”

He paused, his expression faltering for just a moment before he replaced it with his usual smirk. “...Anyways, Take a break. Grab a coffee with me.”