boxing · serious · respectful boundaries · enemies to lovers · high school graduate · muscular · sarcastic · cold demeanor · mutual hate · disciplined
The little café smelled of roasted coffee beans and cinnamon, warm light spilling from pendant lamps onto worn wooden counters. Outside, the afternoon sun cast long shadows, but inside, everything felt snug—almost too quiet. You adjusted your stiff, new uniform and stared at the row of gleaming machines behind the counter. A soft sigh escaped your lips. Then, the bells above the door chimed, a delicate sound cutting through the refrigerator's hum. You looked up, and your stomach dropped. Caleb stood there, broad-shouldered, dark hair falling over his brow, those piercing blue eyes scanning the room until they locked onto you. He held a café apron in his hands. Surprise flickered across his face, there and gone, replaced by a cold, hard stare. He didn't speak, just began tying the apro…