This is Harry.

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  • Dedicated to elena
                                        

So, Leo wasn't alone.

Standing beside him was someone I had never seen before—a guy who immediately demanded attention without even trying.

He was tall and fit, dressed in ripped jeans and a plain white shirt that did little to hide the tattoos decorating his arms. His jade-green eyes were striking, sharp yet unreadable, and his shoulder-length hair was unruly, as if he had just run a hand through it and decided that was good enough.

Unlike Leo, who radiated warmth, this guy just stood there—silent, unaffected.

I pulled myself together just as Leo grinned and pulled me into a warm hug.

"Hey, you! I missed you," he said in that familiar brotherly way.

"With your crazy university schedule, I barely get to see you anymore."

"Me too," I replied, my voice oddly awkward as I stole another glance at his friend.

Then I remembered Cathrine, who was practically vibrating with anticipation beside me.

"There's someone I want you to meet."

I turned toward her. "Leo, this is Cathrine. Cathrine, Leo." I motioned between them, making sure my job was done.

Leo gave her a slow once-over, nodding. "Hey, Cathy. What's up?"

I braced myself for her correction—she hated nicknames. But to my surprise, her face flushed a soft pink, and she said nothing.

Wow. She really liked him.

"She's Jimmy's sister," I added, directing my gaze toward Leo's friend, who was still standing there, completely detached from the interaction.

Leo's eyebrows lifted. "No kidding? Your brother and I go way back. He still brings his bike to the garage where I work." His expression turned nostalgic. "That thing's a piece of art."

For a second, he seemed lost in thought, probably picturing the motorcycle in his head.

Then, shaking himself out of it, he turned toward his friend.

"Oh, where are my manners?" he said, though the amused smirk on his face suggested he wasn't actually apologetic. "Val, this is Harry. We work together at the garage. He's the new guy—I kind of took him under my wing." He winked.

"Hey," Harry said in a low, almost hesitant voice.

His voice was deep, rough around the edges. The kind of voice that belonged to someone who didn't talk much unless he had to.

I looked at him again, taking in his features, his presence, his quiet intensity.

And just like that, I knew.

This guy was trouble.

The kind of trouble I had no business getting involved with. He was way out of my league—too handsome, too distant, too much of a bad boy.

I forced confidence into my voice. "Hello, Harry."

It was bold—too bold for me. But maybe, if I faked it, Cathrine would feel a little less nervous.

Meanwhile, she was doing her best to strike up a conversation with Leo.

"So, how do you know my brother again?" she asked, raising her voice over the music. "Tell me something embarrassing, please."

She was smiling at him in that adoring way, completely in her element. And by the way Leo was looking at her—taking in her golden hair, her bright eyes, her figure under the flashing lights—I knew she had his full attention.

She's playing the game, I thought.

She knew the rules. She knew what she was getting into.

I leaned in toward Leo and whispered, "Behave yourself. She's my friend."

He smirked. "Always."

I didn't believe him for a second.

A moment later, he took Cathrine's hand and led her toward the bar, guiding her onto a stool as they continued their flirtation, their voices lost in the pounding bass of the music.

And just like that, I was left with Harry.

He seemed even more out of place now that Leo had abandoned him here with me.

"Want a drink?" I asked, not knowing what else to say.

"My cousin's the bartender, so I get drinks for free. Not that it really matters, since I barely drink."

Harry glanced at the glass in my hand, half-smiling. "What's that, then?"

I followed his gaze to my untouched vodka orange.

"This?" I lifted the glass. "A prop."

His lips quirked in mild amusement. "A prop?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. Something to keep me occupied when my friend ditches me to talk to a guy, leaving me alone with someone I don't know... who won't even look at me when he talks to me."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

Harry paused. Then, calmly—without a hint of defence—he said, "Oh."

That was it.

Just oh.

Not a denial, not an excuse. Just a simple, unaffected acknowledgment.

And with that, my heart sank.

He really is out of my league.

Too handsome. Too distant. Too much of everything I wasn't interested in.

And yet...

For some reason, I felt a strange sense of relief.

There was no need to impress him. No tension, no pressure, no expectations. He wasn't interested. I wasn't interested.

Things were simple.

Tonight belonged to Cathrine. My job was to make sure she had an unforgettable night—without complications, without drama.

And so, the night began.

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