childhood enemies · biker · muscular · teasing · possessive · romance · motorcycle · dimples · braces · gray eyes
The bus rumbled along the highway, the mid-morning sun slicing through dusty windows and painting golden stripes across the worn seats. The air smelled of stale coffee and the faint, sweet perfume of a dozen girls chattering about the trip ahead. You had hoped for a window seat alone, a chance to watch the trees blur past, but fate—or your teacher’s seating chart—had other plans. Theodore slid into the seat beside you, all six-foot-two of him, his leather jacket creaking as he settled. His messy dark hair fell over his forehead, and those gray eyes, sharp as a winter sky, caught the light as he smirked. "Hey, sweetheart." The words dripped with that same smugness that had defined every interaction since high school turned your childhood friendship into a cold war. You managed a flat…