Chapter 1
Ava’s Pov
By two in the morning, Ava had memorized exactly how many times her roommate’s headboard could slam against the wall before it sounded like it might crack. Twenty-three.
She wasn’t trying to keep count. But after an hour of rhythmic thuds, breathy moans, and muffled dirty talk filtering through the paper-thin walls, counting became her only defense against losing her mind.
Ava shoved the pillow harder over her ears. It didn’t help.
“Oh my God,” she whispered to the ceiling, exhausted and wide awake at the same time.
Another loud moan pierced the darkness. She squeezed her eyes shut. The worst part wasn’t even the noise anymore. It was the reminder of how long it had been since anyone had touched her like that.
Her clock glowed 2:14 a.m. Then 2:47. Then 3:26.
Eventually, she gave up. She dragged herself out of bed in oversized sleep shorts and an old college hoodie, padding into the kitchen. The apartment reeked of cheap wine and someone else’s cologne.
She made tea she didn’t want and curled up on the couch, staring out at the quiet city lights. By 4:30 a.m., the noises finally stopped. Ava crawled back to bed and passed out face-down, blanket forgotten.
The vibration of her phone ripped her from sleep.
Bright sunlight stabbed her eyes. She snatched the phone.
8:21 a.m.
Her shift had started twenty-one minutes ago.
“Shit!”
The next twenty minutes were pure chaos — cold water on her face, frantic teeth brushing, hair twisted into a messy bun, and one missing earring. She threw on her usual café uniform and rushed out the door, looking soft, sleepy, and unintentionally beautiful.
The café was already packed when she burst in. The rich scent of espresso and warm pastries wrapped around her like a hug.
“You’re late,” Mia said, sliding a cup across the counter.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You look like you got fucked all night.” Mia smirked. “Too bad it wasn’t you.”
Ava shot her a deadpan look. “Roommate found Jesus. Unfortunately, Jesus sounds a lot like loud sex at 3 a.m.”
Mia cackled.
Ava tied on her apron and dove into the morning rush, moving on autopilot. Orders. Names. Cups. The familiar chaos was exactly what she needed to shake off the exhaustion.
Until the door swung open again.
A wave of deep male voices and laughter filled the café. Tall. Broad. Cocky energy that demanded attention. Basketball players.
Ava didn’t look up at first, focused on wiping down the counter.
Then the air shifted.
She felt him before she saw him.
A tall, commanding figure stepped through the group like he owned the entire building. Black hoodie pushed up to his elbows, revealing powerful forearms covered in dark ink and prominent veins. Wide shoulders. Long legs. The kind of presence that made the entire café feel smaller.
When Ava finally lifted her eyes, her breath caught.
He was unfairly beautiful. Sharp jawline. Full lips. And eyes so intensely dark they pinned her in place. He wasn’t just looking at her.
He was studying her.
Slow. Deliberate. Unapologetic.
Heat crawled up Ava’s neck. She quickly looked down, heart suddenly racing.
One of his teammates said something and elbowed him. He didn’t react. His gaze stayed locked on her like the rest of the world had faded to background noise.
Mia nudged her. “Holy shit. He’s staring at you like he wants to eat you alive.”
Ava’s hands fumbled with a coffee lid. “Stop.”
But she could feel it — that heavy, unwavering stare burning into her. When she risked another glance, he was still watching. Calm. Intense. Completely in control.
He stepped up to the counter, towering over her. His voice came out low, smooth, and commanding.
“Large black coffee. No sugar.”
Ava nodded quickly, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of herself — the messy bun, the faint shadows under her eyes, the way her oversized sweater slipped off one shoulder.
As she turned to make his drink, she felt his eyes on her back. Tracking her every movement.
When she slid the cup toward him, their fingers brushed. Electricity shot up her arm.
He didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he leaned in slightly, voice dropping even lower so only she could hear.
“You look tired, sweetheart.”
The endearment hit her like a spark.
Ava blinked up at him, cheeks warming. “Late night.”
His lips curved into the faintest smirk — arrogant, knowing, dangerously attractive.
“Should’ve been in my bed instead.”
Before she could even process the bold words, he dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the counter, picked up his coffee, and walked out with his teammates.
Ava stood frozen, heart hammering against her ribs.
Mia whistled low beside her. “Girl… that man just claimed you in front of everyone.”
Ava touched her flushed cheek, still feeling the ghost of his intense stare.
She had no idea who he was.
But something told her her quiet little life had just been interrupted by a man who didn’t ask for what he wanted.
He took it.
