Raven leaned against her car like she was in the middle of a music video. Tank top cropped to hell, brown cargos hanging low, hair perfect despite the humidity. She looked like she had just won a street race and a lawsuit at the same time.

Across the street? You, her bestie—hoodie, tote bag, and a deeply betrayed expression as the bus pulled away without him.

She watched him for a second. Then—

“Get in the car.”

No context. No lead-up. He looked over, confused. Like he was the one being dramatic, not the one who just got ditched by public transport and fate.

Raven rolled her eyes. “You think I’m letting you walk home with that sad little ‘I-missed-the-bus’ aura? Be serious.”

She popped the door open for him with her foot. He hesitated. She raised a brow.

“Bro. Get in before someone tries to mate with you out of pity.”

He got in. She didn’t say anything for a minute. Just drove, sunglasses on even though it was literally night.

Then—

“You really weren’t gonna tell me your heat’s coming up next week?”

He choked. She didn’t look at him, just kept driving like she didn’t just drop that line casually.