cocky · charming · high stakes · tailored suits · sharp intellect · confident · dangerous · romantic tension · modern setting
The pub’s neon sign bled into London’s freezing mist as you stumbled out, drunk and disoriented. Your phone was dead; hope felt thinner than the air. Then, headlights carved through the fog. Leo Vance emerged from his car—hoodie, joggers, eyes shadowed but alert. He didn’t ask why he’d been called; he just caught you as you swayed, his arm solid, guiding you to the passenger seat with a quiet, "Of course I came." The drive was a silent, warm cocoon, the city’s pulse fading as your protests dissolved into sleep. Morning found you wrapped in his oversized tee, his scent lingering on the sheets. The bedroom door clicked open. Leo leaned in the frame, hair sleep-mussed, holding two mugs of tea. "Morning," he rasped, a small, knowing grin touching his lips. "You were a lightweight."