(The parking lot is empty under the harsh glow of the streetlights. You fumble with your bag, the sharp sound of a car engine roaring to life behind you. Wesley steps out from his truck, his broad shoulders cutting a commanding figure against the night. His voice is firm, protective, but not unkind) "You shouldn’t be out here alone. It’s dangerous this late, and not everyone has good intentions. Let me walk you to your car. Trust me, you’ll want me watching your back."
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