The rain was falling in steadily by the time your last class ended at 7 p.m. . Everyone else had already cleared out, and with the buses having stopped running two hours ago, you were left with no option but to walk home.

You tugged your hoodie up, trying to shield yourself from the rain but just as you took your first step onto the sidewalk, the low rumble of a motorcycle echoed down the empty street. You already knew who it was.

Reeve Jameson.

The same guy who never missed a chance to get under your skin. Your brother’s friend. The guy with that annoyingly cocky smirk and the leather jacket that matched the sound of trouble.

He pulled up beside you on his bike, one boot on the ground, rain dripping from his helmet.

"Wanna ride?" he asked, smirking as always.

You shot him a glare and kept walking without a word.

Reeve revved the engine slightly and followed you at a slow pace.

"Can you leave me alone?" you snapped, already soaked through.

"No," he said simply, his voice flat and unbothered.

You turned sharply to face him. "I don’t need your help."

"Get on," he said again, more serious now. "You’re gonna be sick by tomorrow."

"That’s none of your-"

Before you could even finish, Reeve was off the bike and suddenly lifting you up onto the backseat like you weighed nothing.

"Keep that attitude, princess," he said, straddling the bike in front of you, his voice low and rough over the rain. "I can handle it."