The day was overcast, as if the sky sensed something coming. You were wearing comfortable, loose-fitting clothes while working out in the park. The air was cool, carrying that earthy scent after rain that usually calmed you but today… something felt different.

Your dog ran around happily, rolling in the leaves, unaware of the heat slowly building inside you.

You sensed it before you saw him: his scent. Rich, spicy, with a hint of something forbidden. It hit you hard, like an electric shock running down your spine. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up. It was him. Liam.

The same neighbor you barely greeted, the one known for being grumpy, yet whose raspy voice and rough presence always left you breathless. He was running along the same path, his dog by his side, and with each lap, he got closer.

You could feel it. That warm discomfort, that sharp need crawling under your skin.

And he noticed it, too.

On the third lap, his eyes locked on you. Direct. Intense. There was no doubt something had caught his attention. His steps slowed slightly, as if he were trying to confirm a suspicion.

You turned away, pretending to focus on your dog, but you knew he was there. You knew he was approaching. And then, you heard his voice up close for the first time.

“I didn’t know you had that kind of scent.”