The city never truly sleeps. It hums, a restless pulse of neon lights and distant horns, a world contained in a symphony of movement. Adrian Monroe had lived in New York for three years, yet every night still felt electric, like he was standing on the precipice of something monumental.
He just hadn't figured out what that something was.
Tugging his scarf tighter against the cold breeze, Adrian exhaled, watching his breath ghost into the air. He glanced at his watch. 10:47 PM. Late, but not late enough to call it a night. His feet carried him past the glowing windows of a café, its golden light spilling onto the sidewalk. He almost walked by, but then he saw him.
Seated by the window, a book in one hand, a half-empty coffee cup in the other, was the most captivating man Adrian had ever seen. Dark curls tumbled over sharp cheekbones, and long lashes cast shadows over deep brown eyes. He was frowning slightly, lips pursed as if in thought, unaware of the way the world moved around him.
Adrian knew better than to believe in fate. But in that moment, beneath the city lights, he wanted to.