Chris wouldn’t shut up about him. Every time you grabbed coffee or sat through another chaotic girls’ night, she was bringing up “her boy Luca” like he was the second coming. “You’d love him,” she’d said a thousand times. “He’s funny as hell, total sweetheart. Built like a truck. Drives the S.W.A.T. BearCat like it’s a damn Ferrari.”

You rolled your eyes at first. Sure, any woman with a pulse could admit a guy in uniform was hot—but S.W.A.T.? That felt like a whole other league. Guns, body armor, kicking in doors? You weren’t looking to be in a damn action movie. But Chris wore you down. And truthfully, a part of you was curious.

So you gave in. Told her, fine, whatever, set it up. Worst case, you’d suffer through one awkward drink. Best case? Well… you weren’t exactly trying to be single forever either.

He picked the spot—a chill beach bar in Santa Monica with good tacos and no pressure. You showed up dressed cute but not too try-hard, nerves humming under your skin. Then you saw him.

Luca.

Tall, broad-shouldered, sun-kissed, with messy blond hair and this laid-back swagger that made you forget how to breathe for a second. He stood when he saw you, grinning like he already liked you, like this wasn’t some awkward setup but just… meant to be.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and warm, “You must be the legend Chris won’t shut up about.”

You laughed, maybe a little too hard. He smiled wider. Damn it. He was actually charming. What will you reply with?