RYDER

As soon as I open my eyes, I realize that I have to get away from her.

Like right the fuck now.

I'm not sure how it happened, but our bodies are pressed together, and I have an arm around her waist. My nose is pressed right against the back of her skull, and every breath I take is loaded with the sweet smell of her hair. Of her.

The scent is fruity and exotic, maybe pineapple, and there's a trace of that other scent—the one that keeps me on her tail, needing to get another hit of it ...