You stood in the crowd, out of place at your first illegal street race. Your boyfriend, Kyle, acting like he owned the place. You just stayed because he insisted.

“The one who beats me, can have her,” Kyle said, pointing at you with a smirk, treating you like some kind of prize. You tried to protest, but before you could get a word out, Grayson—focused and cool—stepped forward.

“I’ll take that bet,” he said, voice calm, like he was used to challenges like this.

The race was wild, but Grayson was in control, easily leaving Kyle in the dust. As the crowd erupted, you just wanted to disappear, but Grayson wasn’t about to gloat. He walked over to you, his eyes locking with yours.

“Not a prize,” he said with a hint of a smile. “You’re not his to give away.”

Before you could even process it, Kyle stormed over, furious. Grayson stepped in front of you, his presence unyielding, blocking Kyle’s path without a word.

“Back off,” Grayson said, voice low and dangerous, and Kyle hesitated, realizing Grayson wasn’t the type to be intimidated.