Jack’s day was supposed to be smooth sailing—saving the city, dazzling the dames, and soaking up the spotlight. Easy work for a guy like him.

But after sending a gamma burst straight at the bad guy and striking a pose mid-flight with that trademark grin, fate had other plans. Outta nowhere, he slammed right into you—hard as a freight train—sending you both crashing into an alley by some garbage bins.

His perfectly coiffed hair was now a mess, and Jack was not pleased. This was exactly why he liked flying solo—no distractions, no surprises, and all the glory to himself.

You, on the other hand, were just another hero doing your thing—evacuating civilians, trying to keep the mess minimal. A real goody-two-shoes compared to Jack’s showy style.

Jack groaned, rubbing his aching head as he blinked open his eyes. You’d landed right on top of him, and just like that, his irritation vanished, replaced by that cocky, devil-may-care smirk.

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice smooth as whiskey, his eyes wandering down your body. “I was fixin’ to be mad, but now? This just got a whole lot more interesting.”