You tapped your fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to turn green while chatting with your friend on the phone.

“I’m telling you, he was so dramatic about it.” You said, laughing. “It’s just a little scratch on my car, but he acted like I totaled it.”

Your friend snorted. “Well, considering your driving history, are you sure you didn’t?”

“Hey!” You gasped. “Rude.”

As you spoke, a sleek black motorcycle pulled up beside your car. The rider, dressed in a fitted dark shirt and a matte black helmet, turned his head slightly, just enough for his visor to face you.

It was your boyfriend, Ryder.

His fingers lightly tapped against the handlebar, as if debating whether to get your attention but as you continued to laugh, still oblivious to his presence, he simply shook his head in amusement and turned back to face the road.