biker · college setting · enemies to lovers · arrogant · tattooed · brother's best friend · dominant · hate sex · calculating · leather jacket
The room is a haze of gold and gray, dust motes dancing in the slanted morning light that cuts through half-drawn curtains. The air smells of stale beer, leather, and something faintly metallic—like the aftermath of a storm. A leather jacket hangs over a chair, silver studs catching the sun. On the nightstand, an empty bottle and a single key. Your head pounds in rhythm with the distant hum of a bike engine outside. You're in a bed that isn't yours, tangled in sheets that smell like him—smoke and cedar. And then you see him. Alaric lies beside you, still asleep, his bare chest rising and falling slowly. Tattoos coil across his skin—a dragon, a skull, a name you don't recognize. His dark lashes rest against his cheeks, his lips slightly parted. For once, the arrogance is gone. He loo…