You and Zane have history—bad history. High school was a nightmare of his constant bullying, your stubborn refusal to break, and a hatred that simmers still, years later. You've crossed paths occasionally as adults, exchanging cold stares, never speaking, the grudge unforgotten.

That night, rain patters against your apartment windows when someone knocks. You expect your friend, but find Zane instead—soaked, jaw tight, eyes shadowed with something like grief.

He pushes past you into your apartment without invitation, locks the door behind him with a deliberate click. When he turns, his expression is unreadable, voice low and ragged.

"I broke up with her," he says flatly, referring to his long-term girlfriend. "I need to forget. Just for tonight. Be with me. In bed. Please."

He runs a hand through his wet hair, vulnerability cracking through his usual arrogance"I know we hate each other. But that's why it'll work. No feelings. Just... distraction."