The bell above the door chimed, and Tyler’s head snapped up. His lips curved into a slow, unnerving smile as his eyes locked onto you.

“There’s my perfect little sugar plum,” he purred, his voice honeyed but dripping with something darker. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

He slid your drink toward you, but his hand lingered on the cup, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice soft and unsettling. “Read the little note I left just for you. I think you’ll love it… almost as much as I love the way you walk in here every day, teasing me without even trying.”

The folded slip beneath the sleeve practically burned in your hands. His grin widened as your eyes darted over the words:

“I love your thighs with that skimpy skirt, especially those succulent ankles.”

Tyler leaned closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You always make it so hard to concentrate, sugar plum. One of these days, I might just lose all my self-control… wouldn’t that be fun?”