You're so screwed.

Harley

"You didn't what?!"

Mandy shrieked loud enough to turn heads.

"Shh! Keep it down," I hissed, though my words slurred. Yeah, I was drunk—not just tipsy, but fully submerged in a sea of bad decisions and overpriced liquor. Shots, cocktails, anything to drown the humiliation.

We occupied three barstools, staring at shelves of temptation, the kind that promised a hellish hangover but no regrets—at least, not until tomorrow.

"Okay, fine. I'll keep it down," Mandy said, lowering her voice but still vibrating with lawyerly urgency. "Just… clarify. What exactly happened?"

I sighed, slumping against the counter. "I told you. I got fired. Then I ran into my ex-crush for the first time in nine years. And, of course, I made a complete fool of myself."

Rebecca, to my left, patted my back. "Oh, babe, it probably wasn't that bad. At least you said something."

"Fuck you," I grumbled into the polished wood. "You're making it worse."

"Well, then what will make you feel better?" she asked, amused. "You've already drowned your dignity in tequila."

"And considering this is your first time drinking," Mandy added dryly, "I gotta say—you've got a strong stomach."

I lifted my head, glaring at the girls across from us giggling with an escort. My entire life had been safe. High school? Straight-laced. College? My father's dream. Law degree? Proof of obedience. And now? Unemployed. A disappointment to my parents.

Screw it.

"I want a bad boy," I declared.

Rebecca's hand froze mid-pat.

"…Huh?" Mandy blinked.

"A bad boy," I repeated. "I'm done playing safe. Being good got me nowhere. So now? Opposite of that."

And maybe, just maybe, I could stop thinking about those chocolate-brown eyes staring into my soul.

Mandy pointed at me. "Has she lost her mind?"

"Mr. Bartender—Timmy?" she called sweetly. "Stop serving her drinks."

Timmy, predictably, blushed. Mandy was hot.

"Don't be ridiculous," I scoffed, grabbing the cocktail menu. "Timmy's my guy. I'll personally pick my next drink."

And then—I burped.

Loud.

Heat flooded my face. I covered my mouth a second too late, humiliated beyond belief.

Mandy smirked. "Okay. So you wanna break out of your shell? Fine. But where the hell are you gonna find a hot bad boy in this town?"

An image flashed in my mind. Hot. Too hot. With dangerous brown eyes. I pressed my lips together. No way in hell was I admitting that.

Rebecca, however, had other plans.

"Well…" she said, twirling her straw. "There's always Clad."

I stopped breathing.

Had she seen my intrusive thoughts? Heard them?

"…Wait, what?" My voice was embarrassingly high-pitched.

Rebecca shot me a knowing look. "Clad. Harl, the guy you saw at the office today. He's all that… and more. All the ladies were talking about him especially Dorothy."

I froze.

Had they seen the scene in the office? How i got fired? News did travel fast.

To ease my worries Rebecca said, " No, we were not there to witness any of that, Dorothy came rushing about a hot new client she wanted dibbs on."

I wrinkled my nose, " typical."

Mandy on the other hand had yet to react when suddenly her jaw dropped. "Hold on. Clad? As in Class Fifteen Nerd Clad? Harley's crush Clad? Chocolate-brown eyes Clad? The one we are talking about now Clad? That Clad?!"she shrieked.

Damn she remembered every detail, even how I described his eyes.

Rebecca nodded. "Chocolate eyes and now—a goddamn body to go with them."

Mandy gasped, nearly toppling off her stool. "No. Freaking. Way."

Oh, way.

She hadn't seen it. But I had.

I turned away, hoping to hide my flaming cheeks. But Mandy, already suspicious, caught my eye.

The world slowed. Stopped.

Then—

"Oh, you are so toast," she breathed.

"I—"

"I thought Clad was just a grown-up version of his nerdy high school self!" she accused, jabbing a finger at me.

Okay, so maybe I hadn't exactly told her the full story—the one where he turned into a damn Greek god, and I, like an absolute fool, blanked in front of him.

Rebecca laughed. "It gets better. Apparently, he got that body from being a biker. A famous one."

Mandy and I turned at the same time.

"A biker?" we echoed.

Rebecca nodded. "Oh, that's not the end of it, now, your ex-crush—the one you brutally dumped in front of the whole school—is my client."

I froze.

My stomach twisted. Was it the alcohol? Or the sheer horror settling in my bones?

Rebecca grinned. "Correction: he was going to be your client… if you hadn't just been fired."

Mandy whistled. "Damn, Harls. Scratch 'toast.' You're fucked."

And I knew, deep down, she was right.