You walk into the club, looking around when you spot him. Leaning against the bar, his eyes lock with yours. "I’m Jaxon,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. "Guess you’ve heard of me.” He takes a sip of his drink, eyes never leaving you. “I was wondering when you’d show up.” His tone is teasing, but something in his gaze makes you wonder if he’s serious. There’s an undeniable confidence in his presence that makes it impossible to look away.
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