a sheepish grin, leading us to a cozy little table in the corner of the Starbucks. The rich

seat next to her. « You've got a serious

u could say that. I was so wrapped

u only seem to have with the people you've known forever – we reluctantly leave Starbucks. We ste

zzes. Her eyes dart to the screen, and she sighs deeply

off. « No

phone with a g

ne. I can almost hear the frustration in her voice as she r

her shoulders tense that whatever

the worst, » I sympathize,

m. « Tell me about it. You'd think they'd be a

t's why you're in

little. « Yeah, well, not for much longe

offers kindly, clearly not wanting to lea

« You're too good to me, but I'll be

then nods. « Alright. You

I'll grab a bike

me standing on the curb with the afternoon sun warming my skin. I'm not sure why, but th

ull out my phone, find a bike rental app, and befor

h of the wind in my hair, the rhythmic motion of the pedals beneath my feet – it's a feeling like no other. The

n a bike, it's just me and the road. I can forget about everything – work, stress, the c

ow of shops and restaurants. I'm lost in the thrill of the ride when I

ce, the kind of car that makes your pulse quicken just by looking at it. I can't help myself. I slow down

far cry from my humble bicycle. But there's something undeniably captivating

the bike is my steed, and I'm content with it. There's a

ing sound. My eyes snap ahead, and my heart plummets. A massive

rs tighten on the handlebars, but it's no use. The speed at which

ounding in my ears. I squeeze my eyes

y waist and yanking me backwards. My bike skids away, the front wheel turning in a wild a

jolt, my back hitting something hard. I scramble for breath, conf

thing feels like a blur of motion and adrenaline. The pain starts to seep in – sharp and raw – but ev

undings begin to come into sharper view. I'm not sure where I am, but I feel safe. A str

en I s

s. A deep, hypnotic crystal blue that seems to pull me in. I could drown in them. The silver light tha

, break barriers, and bend the world to his will. But it's the hardness of his lips, the serious expression that

rs. It's just him and me, locked in a

ice low, a growl of so

ick with the weight of something mo

nod, my words ca