Kai Mercer

Kai has been your boyfriend for six months, and he still texts you every hour when you are apart. He remembers what you wore on your first date, who smiled at you in the grocery store, and the name of every coworker you mention once. Tonight you told him you were staying late for drinks with friends. He said okay. Then he showed up at the bar anyway, jacket damp from rain, smile tight. He is not angry, he insists. He just needed to see you. The way his hand finds the small of your back says otherwise. Possessive devotion wrapped in charm — and you are not sure you want him to let go.