I'm awaked the next morning by a soft chuckle vibrating through my ears, my head moving slightly on the hard, yet comfortable surface it's resting on. My eyes flutter open, and I look up to see Ryder laying there, arms raised above his head, still chuckling. I shoot him a glare, but I'm still unsure of what happened, and why I'm in Ryder's bedroom right now.

"You snore. A lot. And it's really loud. I was lucky to get any sleep last night. It was just so distracting and annoying," he says, now full on laughing. "And you're a cuddler. I couldn't manage to get comfy last night. Anytime I moved, you'd be right there next to me, or should I say right on top of me." I shoot up, scrambling back to the window, praying my parents haven't found out I'm not peacefully asleep in my room. Opening the window, I hear Ryder yell to me. I turn around and look at him, and he had a sad look in his eyes. "Do you really have to go?"

"Yes, idiot. I don't even remember falling asleep here. What if my parents go to check on me?" I cringe at the thought of them walking into my room, only to see my empty bed and cracked window. It would be like high school all over again.

"Corina, you're an adult. You're allowed to leave your own apartment to go do whatever you wish, whether it be go on that night ride you wanted, or stay over at a friend's apartment." There's that word again... friend. Now that he's said it, I know that he doesn't get the same butterflies as me. I really need to let this tiny crush go. "Besides, it's only 7 in the morning. It's not like they're going to barge in on you this early. Now, come on, I'll go teach you how to make pancakes. Your lessons start now."

"Ryder, my parents are weird, especially my dad. I snuck out all the time in high school and it really broke their trust toward me, and I don't want that strain on our relationship again," I protest. He just rolls his eyes, lightly grabbing my wrist, and pulls me out of his bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen.

"Corina, just grow up. Like I said, you're an adult," he reassures me, still seeing my unsteadiness. "Now, what ingredients do you need to make pancakes?"

"Uh..." I pause, thinking as hard as I could this early in the morning. "Bisquick? Is that what it's called?"

"I meant homemade pancakes, idiot." He's trying so hard not to laugh.

"Hell if I know. I know the easy shit, not this complicated made from scratch shit." I giggle nervously, looking down.

He laughs at me. Nice to know my cluelessness is entertaining for him. "Oh, come on. Pancakes are easy. We need eggs, butter, baking powder, all purpose flour, and white sugar. Help me get everything and we'll start."

I help him gather as much as I can, and we start measuring everything out. "Where did you learn how to cook?" I ask, continuing to measure the sugar.

"I learned everything from my grandma. She was the best cook I've ever met. I would die just to have her lasagne one more time." He looks to me sadly, and I return it with my hand on top of his, which is resting limply on the counter. "She passed away when I was 17. Senior year was hard enough for me, but after losing her, my best friend, it got even worse. I pretty much just gave up. Almost dropped out, even. I'm surprised I even graduated."

I look to him in disbelief. "Ryder..."

"Don't pity me, Corina. I was in a dark place, but I got out of it eventually. It took some time, but I'm mostly better now. Moving to Daytona really helped me to overcome myself and my fears."

I realize by now I'm squeezing his hand tight, almost as if I'm trying to squeeze his troubles away. Looking away, I say "Gina said you've been extra quiet the past few months. Any reason why?"

He sighs. I look back to him, making eye contact, letting him know it's okay to talk if he wants to. "Six months ago was the 7 year anniversary of her diagnosis. 4 months after that was the anniversary of her death. It's never hit me this hard, but I was back in that dark place for a while. That is, until your annoying ass showed up. You pulled me out of it, Corina."

I'm shocked, at a loss for words. Even if I wasn't, I don't even think I'd be able to speak. He removes his hand from under mine, and instantly places it on my upper arm. I feel electric shoot all throughout me as he squeezes softly. Looking back into my eyes, he gives a soft, grateful smile before whispering "Thank you."

I turn my attention back to the pancakes before I start to blush, yet again. This boy just does something to me, and I don't understand why. He just has this weird effect on me that makes my bones turn to jello, my heart race, my mind stop working, and my body blush more than it ever has in my life. I've known him, what, a week and a half? If that? We don't know each other well enough for me to be acting like this. But, on the other hand, it feels as if I've known him a lifetime. I don't understand.

"So," I hear him say, casually. It's not fair, I'm over here all flustered, and he's able to act like a normal person, forming cohesive sentences and all. "You know my reason for my move here, but I don't know yours. What brought you to good old Daytona?"

"I get cold easily," I say, my voice slightly shaking. "I don't get along with winter, and neither do my Harley's. They require constant riding, as do I. My babies didn't get the attention they deserved."

"Harley's?" He asks, dumbfounded.

"Yes. I have two. The baddest bitch of them all is my 2009 Sportster Nightster 1200. My dad bought her brand new, then gave her to me on my 18th birthday. Completely custom built. 14 inch ape hangers, Dynajet programmer, fully tuned. Vance and Hines Short Shots exhaust. There's so much more on her, but I feel like I'm losing you right now," I laugh, looking to the confused boy to my left.

"Just a little, but keep going. I'd love to learn," he says with a genuine smile.

"I can't teach if you're so confused. We'll take it slow. You'll understand my other bike a little more, I hope. It's all stock. You do know what stock means, right, idiot?" He gives me an obvious nod, then I continue. "She's a 2018 Sportster Iron 1200. Pretty similar to the Nightster, who I named Black Betty, just not as powerful since it's stock. I actually just got her on my way to move here."

"I'd love to look at them sometime," he says, still slightly intimidated.

"Can you drive a standard?" I ask.

"Honestly? No, I can't. Sort of embarrassing, but we always had automatics growing up. I don't know anything about cars, and neither do my parents. I never had the opportunity to learn."

"I guess I'll be your instructor, then. Sometime soon we'll take my car to an empty parking lot somewhere and I'll show you the ropes," I reply happily.

"In that loud ass car of yours?" He's nervous again, which makes me laugh, maybe a little evilly.

"Boy, if you think the Subie is loud, just wait until you hear the pipes on the Nightster."

"I'm a little scared to, honestly."

—————

Welp, there we go, they opened up to each other a little. We finally got a look into Ryder's life!

If any of y'all non car people don't know Subie is short for Subaru. Just wanted to clear that up, just in case anyone got confused or anything.

I'm really so excited and happy with how to book is coming together. Hell, I started it just over a day ago and I'm already on chapter whatever this is. 8? 9? I don't remember lol.

Thank you! Let me know what you think!

Buh byeeee