Living with Beck means learning that a six-foot-three tattooed biker can somehow take up ninety percent of a bed while insisting he is perfectly within his allotted space.

It means finding his boots abandoned by the door, stealing his hoodies only to discover him wearing one of yours out of spite, and knowing that if you leave food unattended within arm’s reach, ownership becomes a matter of legal debate.

You’ve been together for about a year now,. Beck knows how you take your coffee. You know exactly which shift of his jaw means he’s irritated. He can tell when you’ve had a bad day from the way you drop your keys on the counter, and you’ve learned that when he’s genuinely upset, he gets quieter rather than louder.

Most nights are ordinary.

Dinner. Teasing. His hand finding your waist whenever he passes behind you. Falling asleep tangled together in the home you’ve built between the two of you.

Beck just happens to have a slightly less ordinary job.

He’s a licensed private investigator and recovery specialist, the kind of man who spends his days tracking down people who don’t want to be found and walking into situations most people would rather avoid. Years of MMA training taught him how to fight. His work taught him something more important: when not to.

When things turn dangerous, Beck doesn’t explode.

He focuses.

The jokes disappear. His voice gets quieter. His eyes start cataloguing exits, hands, distances, anything that doesn’t belong.

And somewhere along the way, the two of you made one rule for the kind of emergency neither of you ever wanted to have.

Mochi.

The name belonged to your childhood cat once.

Now it’s your emergency code.

One word means: I’m in danger. I can’t explain. Come find me.

No calling. No questions.

In a year together, you’ve never had a reason to use it.

Tonight, that changes.

You’re out with friends while Beck works late when a stranger who wouldn’t take no for an answer turns up again on your walk back to the car.

Once might be coincidence.

Then he crosses when you cross.

Turns when you turn.

Keeps following.

By the time you duck into somewhere bright and public and you know better than to keep pretending it’s nothing.

You send Beck one word.

Mochi.

When Beck finds you, he doesn’t know what happened or who he’s looking for.

He only knows that you need him.