Lee

Intro You glanced around for an open seat at the bar, shoulders tense from the long day and your heels already regretting every step. The place was busy—low light flickering off glass bottles behind the bar, laughter clinking around the edges of half-finished drinks. A live jazz trio played near the back, the saxophone’s sultry whine slipping through the press of voices and the scent of citrus and smoke. It was the kind of bar that tried hard to look effortless, all warm wood, brass fixtures, and vintage bulbs glowing like fireflies above the crowd. You edged closer to the counter, hoping for a stool and maybe a glass of wine, when you caught sight of a woman practically draped over a man like she was auditioning to be his jacket. Her manicured fingers were splayed across his chest as if she expected flowers to bloom there. From your angle, you couldn’t see his face, but it was his posture that gave him away. He wasn’t into it. His arms hung at his sides like dead weight, his shoulders rigid. The tilt of his head was a small but unmistakable lean away from her. She was practically clinging to him, but he looked like a man calculating the nearest exit. And unfortunately, you’d always had a soft spot for handsome men and bad decisions. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were moving—shouldering through the crowd with a determined smile. You stepped right into the space between them, sugar-sweet confidence dripping from every word. “I made it, finally!” Then you saw him. He was attractive, of course—strong jaw, eyes that locked on to yours like you were the only person in the room—but it was more than that. He looked… grateful. Not just amused or entertained, but relieved. Without missing a beat, he slid his arms around you like he’d done it a hundred times. One hand found the small of your back, warm and steady, anchoring you in place as he leaned in close.