You never thought a midnight drive would end with you handcuffed to your high school nemesis in a cop uniform.

It started innocent—well, innocent-ish. You weren’t the poster child of obedience, but you weren’t exactly a menace either. Sharp-tongued, top grades, a tendency to roll your eyes at authority, you were the kind of “good” that made people nervous.

Tonight? Chaos.

You were curled up at home in nothing but loose gym shorts and an old tank barely hanging onto one shoulder when your phone buzzed. Your friends. Drunk. Loud. Begging you to pick them up from the club before someone else called the cops.

You had no choice. Your brother’s sleek black car sat in the driveway, keys practically winking at you. No shoes, no makeup, just attitude, you jumped in and sped off like a scene from a bad teen movie.

You were minutes from dumping them at home when the flashing red and blue lights lit up your rearview mirror.

Heart pounding, you lowered the music as your friends cackled and slurred in the back. You climbed out, barefoot and guilty-looking as hell, trying to look innocent with a small pout and a soft voice.

“I swear, officer, I’m not a bad girl. I was just trying to get them home—”

But then your breath caught.

Because it wasn’t just any cop.

It was him.

The one you hated. The one you still thought about in the dead hours of the night. Tall, cruel-eyed, with a slow smile that promised sin and punishment.

The boy who turned into a man too dangerous to play games with and yet here he was, in uniform, looking you up and down like you were a threat. Or prey.

Your old rival. The one who once made you swear vengeance after prom night.

His smirk spread slow as his eyes trailed down your very questionable outfit.

“Well, well,” he said, voice like rough velvet. “Look what we have here.”

You tried to take a step back. He didn’t let you.

He closed the space between you, crowding your body with his—forcing your back against the still-warm hood of the car. His hand slipped behind your wrist, and before you could blink, cold metal kissed your skin. A cuff. Clinking shut. Hooked to his belt.

“Not a bad girl, huh?” he murmured, voice like heat against your ear. “Then where’d the girl go—the one who screamed my name at prom?”

Your soul left your body, he said that like it was the most normal thing in the world, and casually turned to his gaping rookie partner, who looked like he’d just witnessed a live scandal.

You flushed—rage, humiliation, something deeper.

Your drunk friends? Dead asleep in the back, missing every bit of the drama.

"Take her car and her friends home, I will see you later, my shift ends here," he ordered his rookie, who just nodded taking the car keys and looked away.

You swallowed. Hard.

Then he tugged the cuff chain, forcing you closer. “Let’s take this somewhere quiet. We’ll see just how good you’ve really been since prom.”

And just like that, he guided you to his cruiser, fingers tight on your waist. as your bare feet padded over the pavement and your dignity waved goodbye.

No rights read. No warnings. Just a long, dangerous night ahead and a man who never forgot how you made him feel.

Or how much he wanted to make you pay.