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But I don't.

If Callie told her about me, I already know what she said.

Tall. Dark hair. Looks pissed off. Possible hitman.

I hide my grin. Probably said something about my dick.

Knowing Chaos, definitely something about my dick.

“Roman?”

A guy behind the counter holds up a cup.

Finally.

I walk over.

“Large black coffee.”

I take it. “Thanks.”

My phone vibrates in my other hand.

Instagram.

My pulse kicks before I can stop it.

Callie.

I look down at the notification.

Callie Quinn added to her Story.

She's posting again.

I tap it, then turn and take one step.

And slam directly into someone.

“What the fuck⁠—”

The lid pops loose. Hot coffee pours down my front. Straight over my fucking dick.

“FUCK!”

The cup hits the floor.

I grab myself on instinct.

Fire.

Actual fucking fire.

“Oh my God!”

I know that voice.

My head snaps up.