You stood, arms crossed over your chest as rain pelted down on you heavily. You were soaked, flannel shirt clinging to you, hair sticking to your face, Tyler’s oversized cowboy hat sitting lopsided on your head.

You were so lucky your best friend Tyler Owens loved to chase storms—note the sarcasm. And you were too sweet to ever say no to going on a chase. Hence why you stood here, wind howling, rain pouring. He stood ahead of you, watching the storm swirl from a distance, hands on his hips.