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“Yeah? About what?” His tone was light, but something was knowing beneath it, like he already had an idea.

I bit my lip, caught in the familiarity that came when it was just us talking late at night while the rest of the world felt distant.

Well, usually it did. Tonight, I was distracted by the sound of music and gunfire.

“Are you guys seriously gaming at—.” I pulled the phone away to check the time again, squinting at the glowing numbers. “12:38 in the morning?”

“The hour means nothing in times of war, Sass,” he deadpanned. “We were doing some party stuff before now.”

“Did Nick decide on the location then?”

“Can’t tell you that.”

“Why not? That isn’t fair.”

“You weren’t recruited to be on the PPS,” he stated so casually that I started to wonder if it was a real thing.

“What’s the PPS?”

“Party Planning Squad.”

I laughed softly. “Do you hear how that sounds? Also, that’s rude.”

“It’s not rude. It’s accurate.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll just have to torture it out of you.”

“I’d let you,” he murmured, so quietly I almost missed it.

I swallowed and steered the conversation in a safer direction. “All jokes aside, you should really be in bed. Growing boys need their sleep.”

“You can’t say ‘all jokes aside’ and then immediately joke, even if you’re terrible at it.”

“Excuse you, I’m being cereal as hell right now.”

He groaned. “It’s almost one in the morning, and you’re saying shit like that?”

“Growing boys, Rye. Sleep is essential.”

“I’m 6’4”, Sass. I think the growing part’s over.”

I padded across the living area and slipped out onto the balcony, quietly sliding the glass door shut behind me. The chill wrapped around my legs instantly, but it wasn’t unwelcome. The air was crisp, edged with moisture.

Fog and dew clung to the parked cars down below, their silhouettes faint under the soft glow of the streetlamps. The lights of Hemlock Heights twinkled in the distance, half-hidden behind the haze, like a dream you weren’t sure you remembered right.

The thought had his last text coming to mind. “Oh—speaking of size…”

He made a sound that told me exactly where his mind went.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Ryder Voss.”

He laughed, warm and rich, and for a second, I forgot the chill in the air. “I didn’t even think what you assumed I did. That tells me whose mind is really filthy.”

“That’s a lie. Did you forget I can read yours?”

“And that superpower works through the phone now?”

“Of course it does.”

“Okay. What am I thinking then?”

I grinned. “That I’m always right.”

He laughed again, and I closed my eyes for a second, holding onto the sound like it was something precious. It was ridiculous how much I missed it; how much I missed him. The background faded, and I knew he’d stepped away from whatever noise was around him.

“I miss you, Sass.” His voice was low and soft, stripped of pretense.

I almost came right out and said I had been thinking the same thing mere seconds ago.

I didn’t know how to respond without giving too much away.

My fingers curled tighter around the railing, the cold metal biting into my palms. I wanted to ask if he missed me the way I missed him, like a phantom limb or a secret kept so long it becomes part of your bones.

I wanted to know if he ever stayed up at night, thinking about the things we never said. If he remembered the promise we made when we were kids, sealed with a dandelion I kept pressed in a picture frame back home that was filled with memories of us.

I didn’t give a voice to any of that, though. I couldn’t. Not when everything already felt like a wire pulled too tight. There were a million maybes and what-ifs crowding the space between us, but two truths cut through it all right then.

He had a girlfriend.

And I had a boyfriend, sleeping just a few rooms away.

I gave him the safest answer I could. “I’m right here.”

He chuckled, but it was different now, quieter, darker around the edges. “Funny. I can’t feel you.”

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

Just beyond the tree line that framed the narrow field behind the dorm apartments.

At first, I thought it was nothing, but the glow of a streetlamp stretched long across the asphalt, catching on a figure in a hood.

That wouldn’t have been alarming given it was cold outside, but they weren’t moving, and although I couldn’t see their face, it felt like they were watching me .

“Sass?” Ryder’s voice came through the line with concern.

“Yeah—I’m here,” I replied quickly, my voice uneven as I tried to soothe my nerves.

I reached behind for the door, not taking my eyes off of whoever this person was.

Just as I grasped the little wedge to slide it open, the person lifted a hand and waved.

Not a wave of greeting, but slow and deliberate, like this was a pageant.

Then they turned and disappeared into the trees behind the parking lot, swallowed by the dark.

“What the hell was that?”

“Sanj?” Ryder’s voice sharpened immediately, the subtle shift in my tone not slipping past him for even a second. “What’s wrong?”

I walked backward into the apartment. “Nothing. Some guy was walking around out back and gave me the creeps. Probably a student messing around.”

“At 1 AM? What did they look like?”

I hesitated, scanning the tree line. “I don’t know. They had on a hoodie or a jacket with their hood up. I couldn’t see their face, but they waved at me.”

Silence stretched across the line so long I had to pull the phone from my ear to make sure we were still connected. When he finally spoke, it was low and dead serious. “Why are you outside right now?”

“I’m not anymore. I was on the balcony,” I replied quietly, belatedly cluing in and remembering the fact that Ryder was overprotective of me on a normal day. “It was probably just a student, like I said.”

I was trying to convince myself as much as him, but it wasn’t working.

A few hours ago, the same kind of person was near the edge of The Pit, hanging back in the shadows.

What if someone had followed me? No, that was ridiculous.

I wasn’t remotely interesting enough to have a stalker.

If anything, a stalker would warn other stalkers to stay away.

The second-hand embarrassment I doled out would be a physical pain.

“After what you said earlier,” Ryder continued, his voice cutting through my thoughts, “probably isn’t good enough.”

“Rye--.”

“Let me come to you.”

His voice did that thing, landing in the part of my chest where my composure lived and rattled the walls. I knew he wasn’t asking. I wanted to let him.

Ryder had always been my shelter from everything and anything that made me afraid, whether it was a spider or a storm. But letting him in now would only make everything worse.

“No.” I forced out gently. “You can’t come here. Ashton’s asleep, and I’d have to explain everything. It’s better if I wait until daylight.”

“I wouldn’t give a fuck if he were right beside you. That has nothing to do with us. Matter of fact, how is he even sleeping when you’re not there? You’ve never left my bed without me knowing, and you never will.”

The implication behind that caught me off guard.

It meant he saw a future where we’d be sharing a bed again.

We hadn’t done that since freshman year of college, back when it was a bit easier to ignore the way he looked at me and hide how much I adored it.

Long before that, when we were younger, it was late-night movies, sharing secrets, him stealing my blanket, and me shoving him off the bed in retaliation.

It had never been more than that. It was never like this.

I shook my head as if that would clear it. I wasn't going to let my thoughts go there. I couldn’t afford to drown in a deeper sea of what-ifs when I was already treading water just to breathe.

“Calm down, okay? Nothing happened, Rye. I’m—.” I paused mid-sentence. A low engine rumbled on his end of the line, followed by muffled voices. My eyes narrowed. “Did you just start your truck?”

He didn’t answer.

“Ryder, please.”

“Stay inside. Check the locks,” he ordered softly.

“I will. If I see anything else, I’ll call.” I locked the door and tugged the long blinds shut. I doubted anyone was going to Spider-Man their way up to the third floor, but better safe than sorry.

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Hey! Wait—.”

“Don’t tell me to stay away again. I heard you the first time. I’m pretending I didn’t because everything in me is screaming to do the opposite.”

His tone was still soft, but the edge beneath it was impossible to miss. I wasn’t sure if the hostility was aimed at Ashton, the tension between us, or the person who had better be long gone before Ryder found them.

“I didn’t mean—.” I started, guilt bleeding into my voice

“Don’t say sorry to me,” he cut me off one last time. “I’m letting you stay with him.” A second later, he added, “For now.”

The phone beeped twice, signaling he’d ended the call. I stood there, staring at my phone with a slow-building scowl. He was letting me? The freaking nerve of him.

I shot him a text.

Don’t go off and do anything crazy, Ryder.

His response didn’t come for another grueling fifteen minutes.

Rye ????

When it comes to you, Sass, Crazy’s much too tame a word for what I’m willing to do.

You’ve been so good, Rye don’t let something this silly mess it up.

I didn’t get another reply for hours.

By the time my phone buzzed again, shy of 4 a.m., I was staying awake purely from pinging between royally pissed and viscerally concerned. And Ashton still hadn’t woken up once.

Rye ????

Go to bed.

That was it?

That’s all you have to say? ??????

The typing bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Then it reappeared again. I sat up straighter when his reply came through.

Rye ????

Are you scared?

I can come and remind you who’s always been better at making you feel safe.

I nearly launched my damn phone across the room. Wisely, I aimed it at the couch cushions instead, where it bounced with a soft, unsatisfying thud beside me.