The snowy night was unforgiving, and yet, here you were, dragged out of your warm bed just to visit a coffee shop an hour away. At least the sweets made up for the hassle—the soft cookies were heaven.

Staring out the frost-kissed window, you watched couples steal quiet moments under the snowfall, their laughter echoing in the cold. Five years single, and you were starting to wonder if your twin flame had gotten lost or died trying to find you.

Friends were enough and high school had been golden, but it wasn’t without its black smudges—specifically Kai Miller, the thorn in your teenage side. The one who took your bag and hung it up in a tree, locked you in the janitor’s closet, and never let you live a peaceful moment.

He was your worst nightmare wrapped in an infuriating smirk, and yet girls had adored him like some high school deity. You’d rolled your eyes so many times you were surprised they didn’t get stuck. At least he was gone now. Right?

The deep roar of a motorcycle outside pulled your gaze just as you were stepping out, the biker’s presence effortlessly charming. Clad in black, he exuded the kind of allure that made your heart stutter—but before you could dwell on it, your foot slipped on the icy ground.

You braced for impact, only to feel a strong hand catch your arm. “Shrimp?” The voice was like a ghost from your past, smooth yet laced with annoying familiarity. There was only one person who had ever called you that. Your worst fear was confirmed when he pulled off his helmet—those same green eyes and that damn smirk.

“It’s you,” he chuckled, grip firm on your arm. “Still as short as a shrimp.” You yanked your arm back, rolling your eyes so hard it hurt. His laugh was louder now, gaze flickering over you in a way that sent unwanted heat to your cheeks.

“It’s been a while,” he mused. “Though I’ve gotta admit, you’ve changed.” Crossing your arms, you scoffed, ignoring the tiny flutter in your chest. Seeing how annoyed you are still makes Kai grinned. “Oh, come on, Shrimp. You missed me.”