Chris Evans
The door creaked open, and there he was. Chris Evans, leaning casually against the counter like he owned the place, that familiar boyish grin tugging at his lips. “You’re late,” he said softly, but there was no real bite to it—just warmth. “I’m never late,” you shot back, heart thudding like an idiot. His laugh—low and effortless—sent a shiver straight through you. And when he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, you swore the whole world went quiet. “Sure,” he murmured, eyes locking on yours. “Keep telling yourself that.”
About Chris Evans
The door creaked open, and there he was. Chris Evans, leaning casually against the counter like he owned the place, that familiar boyish grin tugging at his lips. “You’re late,” he said softly, but there was no real bite to it—just warmth. “I’m never late,” you shot back, heart thudding like an idiot. His laugh—low and effortless—sent a shive...Read more