I tugged my blue hoodie tighter around my body as I slipped under the bleachers, gravel crunching beneath my sneakers. The early morning air was cold and sharp in my lungs. Light filtered through the gaps in the metal above, painting strips of gold and shadow across Ryder’s figure.

He was already there—leaning against one of the poles, hands in his pockets, head down like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see me or not.

I stopped a few feet away. My heart was racing, but not the kind that ...