A/N: Hello, lovelies, as you can probably tell I'm not following my update schedule. 😄 I love this story too much to wait for the scheduled updates, that I just want to share it with you now. This story does have heartaches in it and sad moments, but it's also about the beauty of first love, so if you would please tell your friends about this story, it would mean so much too me.

This story has become my air to breathe, so please, don't forget to comment, vote, and share with your friends. Thank you.

Love from,
BunnyBaekkiee ❤️

P.S. I've always kinda been drifting from my fanfics, but I'll do my best to give you chapters when I find my inspiration. Thank you again, I wish you all a lovely day/night! 😊💕

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"Are you deaf?" Garrett yells. "I said get out of my fucking car!"

I sit there numb and completely dumbfounded, and it takes me a moment before I'm able to move, and then I quickly climb out of the car and slam the door shut. Garrett doesn't waste a moment, and immediately hits the gas leaving me all alone on the side of the road with rain pouring down all around me, that soaks through my clothing almost instantly.

I could cry. Actually, I do start to cry. My day had started out bad, and there were waves that nearly tipped me from my boat, and now . . . My boat is nothing but pieces of ply wood floating all around me, not even enough to hold me above water to prevent me from drowning.

I sniffle and wrap my arms around myself, wishing I had a better jacket, and then I realize I accidentally left my backpack in Garrett's car, and silently curse myself for being so thoughtless.

I live five or so blocks away still, and I'm almost afraid I might not make it, or at the very least I'll be a dripping block of ice by time I make it home. I secure my hood over my hair and begin the achingly horrible walk home.

I'm trying to think happy thoughts to distract myself from the cold when I hear a loud engine behind me, and I immediately envy them. Only when they drive pass me and I notice it's a motorcycle do I pity them too, but then something odd happens. The motorcyclist suddenly stops, and I frown confusedly when they look back at me, and then they're making a sudden U-turn and driving up beside me.

"Need a ride?" they yell over the heavy rainfall.

It's hard to see with the rain running into my eyes, but I'd know that voice anywhere, and I silently thank the Gods. Christian is quickly becoming one of my favorite people; he's now saved me twice in one day.

"Y-Yes, thank you s-so much," I yell over the chattering of my teeth.

He nods and grabs my hand, helping me climb on the bike as he yells over the rain. "I live really close by, I can take you to my place to dry off, then when my parents get home we'll drive you home!"

"Actually, I—-" I don't get a chance to finish my sentence though, because a crack of thunder drowns out my voice and then Christian is restarting his bike, and I never get the chance.

I hold on tightly to Christian, only half-embarrassed that I might be squeezing him too tightly, but can you really blame me for not wanting to fall off an already dangerous bike in the pouring rain? When we pull into his driveway, he taps my hand and yells, "I have to get off to open the garage, don't fall off!"

Why would I—-

Christian gets off, and I'm not prepared for how heavy the bike is, and I don't properly have my weight distributed and I nearly fall over. Christian quickly catches the bike and steadies me, I think I hear him laugh over the rain, and he yells, "How many times do I have to save you in a day?"

I feel my cheeks heat up, but thankfully they're already red from the cold so Christian doesn't notice my embarrassment, although I strangely suspect that he does when I see the ghost of a grin curve his lips. He runs towards his garage and inputs a code on the keypad, the garage opens with a loud whine, and then Christian is hoping back on his bike and driving it inside were it's dry and warm.

He lets me get off the bike first so I don't fall again, and then he puts down the kickstand and climbs off after me. He shuts his garage and pulls out his key before glancing at me, he sighs at my sad appearance and asks, "Why were you walking in the rain, I thought you were with someone...?"

I sigh too, and my eyebrows furrow as I reply, "He-He got mad at me and . . ."

"Wait wait wait, he kicked you out of his car!?" Christian gasps.

"I-I didn't say that—-"

"You don't have too, it's obvious, Beau," Christian mutters as he unlocks the door and pushes it open.

I purse my lips and slowly follow after him, and I can't think of anything to say because of course he's right. Walking in through his garage opens up into his kitchen, and he mutters for me to take off my shoes before leading the way through the clean and shinny kitchen. He takes me through the living room, that's tastefully decorated and filled with warmth, to a staircase I assume leads to his bedroom or a bathroom. He jogs up the steps and leads me down the short hallway to a door on the left that has a 'Do Not Enter' sign. I smile as he opens the door, and gestures for me to follow.

He closes the door behind us as I take in his messy yet orderly room. He has clothing scattered around his floor and textbooks are piled in the corner beside his desk; his closest door is open, and even more clothing is spilling out. His bed is an unmade mess too, with the sheets and blankets half-hazardously spilling off the bed; the perfect trap for getting your feet caught. His walls are white, with different music posters to add some color, and he even has an old street sign that says 'Detour' hanging up on his wall.

I smile when I see it, and wonder if there's an interesting story behind how he got it.

From the corner of my eye, I see him blanch at the mess that is his room, before he quickly dives forward and gathers together as many articles of clothing as he can before stuffing it all into his already overflowing closet. He forces the doors closed before kicking the remaining clothes into the corner, and huffing he turns around as he breaths, "There we go, now you don't have to worry about stepping on anything."

I smile as I slowly step further into the room, and as I do, I suddenly notice how absolutely freezing I am. I rub my hands together as I ask, "Do you....Do you have anything I can....I can change into?"

"Oh, right!" Christian turns towards his dresser and searches through his clothes before he holds out a pair of sweatpants and a black long sleeves T-shirt. "Here you go, you're smaller than me so this should fit. It'll probably be big but . . ." Christian shrugs.

I smile appreciatively and thank him, and ask, "Where's your bathroom?"

"Just across the hall, and you can leave your wet clothes in the tub. I'll throw them in the dryer for you," Christian says.

"Th-Thank you," I mutter. I'm surprised by the offer, but at the same time I'm not because Christian has proven to be kind —- even if he is hard to figure out some times.

I leave his room and walk across the hallway like he told me, and flip on the light as I step inside the bathroom. I place his clothes on the sink edge before peeling myself out of my wet clothing, and place them inside the tub as he directed. I put on the sweatpants, and as I'm pulling the shirt over my head I catch the same whiff of his cologne as I did at school, mixed with another scent; his detergent maybe. And unlike earlier, he isn't in the room to watch as I inhale in a deep breath of his shirt, probably looking like the biggest creepier as I do.

I inhale one last deep breath before I weird myself out, and leave the room to walk back across the hallway. I knock first and wait for him to tell me to come in, and when I step inside he's also changed into dry clothes. I glance over his outfit, and let out a laugh that draws his attention.

He glances up at me curiously and mutters, "What's so funny?"

I cover my mouth and giggle into my hand as I gesture at my outfit, before pointing at his. He glances at himself before looking up at me, and realizes like I did that we're dressed alike. Christian laughs too and says, "Wow, I didn't even realize."

I giggle, and feeling more at ease I edge further into the room. Christian notices my slight hesitation, and reaches out to grab my wrist before yanking me down onto his bed as he mutters, "I won't bite you. Relax, Beau."

I feel my cheeks pinken as I awkwardly shift beside him, and bite my lip as I glance at what he's doing. Being so close to him again doesn't help the burning of my cheeks, and I become too nervous to speak. So I just find myself watching over his shoulder as he does his homework, and after an hour or so has passed, I hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

Christian glances up from his homework and mutters, "My parents are home, come on."

He stands up and grabs my hand, like it's the most natural thing in the world, as he leads me downstairs. I gasp at the warmth and find my thoughts running wild as I have to jog to keep up with him.

He leads me downstairs and into the kitchen where his mother and father appear to be putting away groceries. Christian releases my hand, and I silently mourn the lost as Christian hops onto the kitchen counter and goes through the groceries as he casually asks, "Can my friend stay for dinner?"

His mother glances up curiously as his father asks, "Sure, call them over."

Christian laughs and says, "No, Dad, their already here."

His father frowns and glances up as he asks, "What? Where?"

Christian smiles before glancing over at me, and my already red cheeks turn even more crimson as Christian gestures to me and says, "Mom, Dad, this is Beau. Beau, this is Mom and Dad."

I smile shyly as I shuffle forward and mumble, "Hi."

Christian's parents both smile at me before his mother says, "Hello, Beau, it'll be a pleasure to have you join us for dinner. Do you have any food allergies?"

I shake my head and mumble, "No, ma'am."

She nods with a kind smile and says, "Excellent. Christian? Christian?" She glances over at her son and spots him eating a granola bar, his mother frowns and smacks him as she yells, "Don't eat that, you'll spoil your appetite!"

I bite my bottom lip against a laugh as I watch as Christian frown around his mouthful of granola, before quickly swallowing it before he cries, "What about Dad, I can see him eating something in the fridge!"

"Parker!" Christian's mother yells.

When Christian's mother looks away, he quickly swipes another granola bar before hurrying towards me, he drops it in my hand before grabbing my other one and spinning me out of the room. I gasp as he quickly darts back upstairs, pulling me along with me.

Word count: 1,897