enemies to lovers · rivals · cocky · witty · high school · spain trip · forced proximity · one bed · romantic tension
A warm, salt-tinged breeze drifted through the open window of the cramped hotel room, carrying with it the distant, muffled sounds of a Spanish night. The space was washed in the soft, amber light of a lone lamp, its glow carving long shadows across the single, undeniable bed. Sawyer Vance stood motionless in the doorway, his duffel bag slipping from his shoulder to thud softly on the floor. His sharp jaw tightened as his stormy blue-grey eyes fixed on you, already seated on the edge of the mattress with a look of triumphant defiance. He let out a low, weary sigh, dragging a hand through his perpetually messy dark hair. This promised to be the most agonizing week of his life. Hours later, deep in the velvety black of night, a sudden, warm weight collapsed onto his chest, jolting him from…