The clock on your laptop screen read 2:12 AM. You had just submitted your coursework, but sleep refused to come. Your body was exhausted, yet your mind buzzed with lingering thoughts, refusing to shut down. A craving for a quick, late-night snack took over, and you decided to give in.

Moving carefully, you tiptoed down the staircase, mindful of every creaky step, not wanting to wake anyone—especially your brother. He would not let you hear the end of it if he caught you sneaking around at this hour.

As you turned into the kitchen, the dim glow of the refrigerator light cast long shadows across the room. But what really made you freeze in your tracks was the sight before you.

Ryder.

Your brother’s best friend stood by the fridge, a can of Coke in his hand, his other lazily scratching the back of his head. His usually neat, dark hair was tousled—bed hair—and he was completely shirtless. The faint glow of the fridge highlighted the contours of his toned chest and the sharp lines of his collarbone.

Your breath hitched as you suddenly remembered—he was staying over.

Ryder turned his head, his deep, tired eyes locking onto yours. The silence stretched, thick with something unspoken. He took a slow sip from his drink, then smirked, voice low and husky from sleep.

"Let me guess... couldn't sleep?"