Our eyes met, and he didn’t even flinch; he just smiled and tipped his blue solo cup toward me.Sandy blond hair, long, athletically carved legs, and a soft jawline. He wasn’t close enough to tell the color of his eyes, but I had no doubt that they were pretty.The stranger was cute, in a rich boy-playboy way. But a man like him wasn’t cut from the same cloth as me.If he got any closer, I could bet he had clean, trimmed fingernails, good designer shoes, and straight white teeth that, without a doubt, had never been knocked out before.It was simple. Pretty Boy over there was a descendant of a soft and easy heritage, while people like me, who had illegal early childhood training in getting clear headshots, were not advised to mingle.The reason was simple: Where I came from, Pretty Boy and his likes almost never survived.Before he started trudging through the sand toward me, I turned away—And accidentally bumped into someone else.A girl, this time around.We stood close enough to o
Last Updated : 2025-04-10
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