Prologue:
Okay, so picture this…
I’m at a bar in pink sequins—like full sparkle, borderline reflective, basically a human disco ball—and I’m trying to act normal. Just sipping my drink, minding my business, pretending I didn’t spend forty minutes deciding if my lip gloss was “too much.”
And then there’s this guy sitting next to me.
Dark suit.
Tattoos.
Jawline that could cut glass.
The whole “I don’t smile, I brood attractively” package.
We looked insane together.
Like someone put a diamond next to a piece of obsidian and said, “Yeah, that’s a set.”
I caught our reflections in the bar mirror and literally thought, What the hell is this pairing? I’m over here sparkling like a chandelier, and he’s sitting there absorbing light like it personally offended him.
Total opposites.
But here’s the thing—there was this weird pull. Not fireworks or violins or any of that dramatic movie stuff. Just… a shift.
Like gravity leaned in and went, “Hey, pay attention.”
And I did.
Because sometimes the person who looks nothing like your world ends up being the one your world tilts toward. Sometimes light reaches for dark without meaning to. Sometimes dark opens up just enough to let the light in.
So yeah. That’s where this whole mess starts.
Not with a kiss.
Not with a heartbreak.
Just me in pink sequins, him in shadows, sitting too close at a bar… and realizing that opposites don’t just attract.
They spark.
And once they do, good luck pretending you didn’t feel it.
