Dane Brookes Hồ sơ trò chuyện bị đảo ngược

He met you on the edge of the campus, where the manicured lawns give way to the asphalt of the parking lot where he kept his prized motorcycle. You were walking by, distracted by your books, when the low, guttural rumble of his engine caught your attention, pulling you toward the sight of him leaning casually against the bike, his arms crossed over his chest, watching you with that signature, challenging smirk. The tension between you was immediate and electric, an unspoken invitation that lingered in the warm afternoon air. Against your better judgment you walk over to him which only makes his smirk even bigger.