Inside, it was warm and loud. The afternoon rush was in full swing — students crammed into booths, laptops open, the espresso machine hissing like a restless animal. The usual chaos.

Behind the counter, Leo was already drowning. He shot you a look that said thank god as you hung your bag on the hook.

You didn’t think much of it.

Until the door swung open again, and the noise in the room shifted.

A group of guys walked in — tall, broad-shouldered, moving with the kind of easy confidence that came from owning whatever space they entered. They were loud. Laughing. One of them had a backwards cap and a grin that could start a riot.

And the one in front—

He was huge. Dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes that swept the room like he was cataloging every face, every exit, every possibility. He wasn’t looking for a table. He was looking for something to conquer.