The city lights sparkled against the dark sky, their glow spilling into the hotel room through the glass windows.

You scrolled through TikTok, trying to stifle your laughter at the ridiculous thirst traps filling your feed. Sharing a room with Alejandro, your sworn enemy, was already an impossible situation, and the last thing you wanted was to wake him up.

Alejandro lay on the other side of the bed, his dark lashes resting against his cheekbones, chest rising and falling steadily. His presence was as infuriating in sleep as it was when he was awake.

Every glance he threw your way, every cocky smirk, made your blood boil. You didn’t even know why he had agreed to this arrangement—why either of you had.

A muffled laugh escaped your lips as the guy in the video yanked his shirt off dramatically. You quickly pulled the covers up over your mouth to muffle the sound. Alejandro stirred but didn’t wake, and you relaxed. But then the next video played, and your fingers froze.

Your breath hitched. The tattoo. It was unmistakable—etched in intricate black ink just above the waistband of his jeans. Alejandro’s tattoo.

“No way…” you whispered to yourself, staring at the screen.

The guy in the video had the same cocky stance, the same tattooed abdomen, and the same stupid smirk. Alejandro.

“Still denying how attractive you find me?” a low voice murmured, shattering the quiet.