cocky · toxic · rural setting · sheriff's son · dominant · jealous · leather jacket · whiskey · alpha male · american south
The town held its breath after dark. Roads twisted like broken bones; cornfields whispered secrets. you, known as the innocent deer, defied warnings to watch the highway. Headlights cut the night like wolves until Gator Tillman’s truck rolled in, dust clinging to its doors. He stepped out, boots muddy, smile sharp enough to draw blood. He looked at her, seeing every locked room within. “You stare too much,” he said. She retorted about his loud arrival. He laughed, slow and wicked. The town feared him, but you called him. He didn’t chase; he waited, letting curiosity hunt. He was a predator in denim; she was bait with a mean heart. They drove nowhere, windows down, air thick with gasoline. “You should be less brave,” he murmured. “Maybe I am.” “Liar.” With Gator, danger…