"he is stealing my nanny."
She threw a pillow him. "You're such an idiot."
"But I'm a cute one."
"Debatable."
____
Somehow, she ended up staying.
They sat on the massive couch in the entertainment room, Ryder flipping aimlessly through Netflix while Scarlett tried not to notice that his hair was still damp from his post-gym shower.
He glanced at her. "You never actually sit with me."
"Because you never ask without an ulterior motive."
"And if this time I just wanted your company?"
She paused. "Then I'd say... you're scaring me."
He grinned. "Fair."
Scarlett tucked her knees up. "Ryder?"
"Yeah?"
"Why do you even care who I spend time with?"
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he muted the TV and turned toward her, serious now. "Because when I walk into a room, I expect people to notice. To laugh. To flirt. That's always been easy. But you..."
Scarlett held her breath.
"You never gave me the reaction I expected," he continued. "You challenged me. Annoyed me. Called me out. And somehow, I kept wanting to hear more."
She swallowed. "So you just… enjoy the challenge?"
"No." He leaned in just slightly. "I enjoy you."
Scarlett's cheeks warmed, but she forced a smirk. "Smooth."
"I know," he whispered.
Their eyes locked, and for a second, there was nothing else — no Ezra, no school, no games.
Just Ryder.
And Scarlett.
------
"Ryder!" Mason's voice echoed from the hallway. "Tell your dog to stop trying to eat my socks!"
Scarlett burst into laughter.
Ryder groaned. "Ruined. The moment was perfect."
Scarlett stood, still laughing. "Goodnight, Ryder."
"Scarlett?"
She turned.
His voice was quieter. "Thanks for staying."
She nodded once. "Don't get used to it."
But as she walked away, Ryder watched her with a quiet smile — because he could tell: she already was.
---
~NEXT MORNING ~
By Tuesday morning, Ryder Sinclair had officially become... different.
Not dramatically. Not in-your-face.
But people noticed.
He wasn't late to class for once.
He didn't flirt with the girl who always "accidentally" dropped her pen near his desk.
And he didn't once check his phone during Mr. Alden's lecture.
Scarlett noticed, too.
Especially when he sat beside her in the library without cracking a single joke. Just silently pulled out his textbook and started reading — like some kind of quiet, mysterious academic ghost.
It was... suspicious.
She stared at him across the table. "Okay. Who are you and what have you done with Ryder Sinclair?"
He looked up from his book with an innocent shrug. "What? I'm studying."
"You don't study. You show up, charm your way through quizzes, and copy Mason's notes."
"I'm turning a new leaf."
Scarlett squinted. "You don't even own a leaf."
---
~CARFETERIA~
Ezra found her at the outdoor table she usually sat at alone — until now.
"Hey," he said, sliding in beside her.
Scarlett smiled. "Hey."
He looked around. "Where's Ryder?"
"Library."
Ezra raised a brow. "Voluntarily?"
"Apparently."
Ezra chuckled. "So he's playing the long game now, huh?"
Scarlett blinked. "What?"
He shrugged, keeping his tone light but watching her closely. "You're the only girl he hasn't been able to charm in five seconds. That makes you… a mission."
Scarlett didn't laugh. She didn't smile.
Instead, she set down her fork.
"I'm not a game, Ezra."
He quickly shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying... he's not exactly the type to stick."
Scarlett looked away.
Ezra sighed. "I just don't want you to get hurt."
---
~ Sinclair Mansion~
Scarlett walked into the living room expecting to find Ryder gaming, watching sports, or making a disaster out of the kitchen with his midnight snacks.
Instead, she found him... baking.
Wearing an apron.
Covered in flour.
Holding a wooden spoon like it was a grenade.
She blinked. "What on Earth—?"
"Oh, hey," he said casually, turning around and smearing more flour on his cheek in the process. "I'm making cookies."
"You... bake?"
"No. But you said the chocolate chip cookies at campus café sucked."
Scarlett stared at him, heart skipping.
"So now you're baking?"
He nodded proudly. "Also, please don't die. I may have confused baking powder with baking soda. Or maybe I used both. It's fine."
Scarlett couldn't help it. She laughed — a real, unfiltered one.
"You're insane."
"I know." He grinned. "But if you eat one and survive, I think that legally makes you my girlfriend."
She threw a towel at him.
---
They sat on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, sharing his very questionable cookies.
The room smelled like burnt sugar and chaos, but for once, Scarlett didn't mind the mess.
"You didn't have to do this," she said softly.
"I know," Ryder replied. "But I wanted to."
She looked at him for a long second.
He wasn't performing. He wasn't putting on a show.
This was real.
And it scared her more than she wanted to admit.
"I still don't trust you," she said honestly.
"Good," he replied. "I don't trust myself either."
Scarlett blinked.
And then—smiled.
---
The cookies were terrible.
Ryder didn't even try to argue it.
Scarlett had gagged, laughed, then choked on her laughter, which made him laugh so hard he dropped a tray of the second batch.
Now, the mansion kitchen was an absolute wreck.
Flour on the floor. Burnt cookie crumbs on the counter. A spatula sticking to the ceiling fan for reasons neither of them could explain.
"You," Scarlett said, rubbing her eyes from laughing too much, "are banned from all forms of baking. Forever."
Ryder dropped dramatically onto the couch in the living room. "That's fair."
Scarlett followed, sitting down beside him with a sigh. "We should clean that up."
"We will," he promised, closing his eyes. "Eventually."
---
10:41 PM
The room was dark now, lit only by the glow of a forgotten TV show playing low in the background.
Scarlett curled up on the far end of the couch with a throw blanket over her legs, phone in her hand, but her eyes heavy.
She heard Ryder yawn.
"You falling asleep?" she asked.
"Not yet," he mumbled, his voice lower, softer. "Are you?"
"No."
Silence.
Then Scarlett added, "...Maybe."
---
11:17 PM
Ryder glanced over and found her fast asleep, her head tilted slightly, blanket pulled up to her chin.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't even blink for a moment.
She looked... peaceful.
Her usual sharpness was gone. Her sarcasm. The fire in her eyes. All replaced with something delicate and calm.
And it wrecked him a little.
Without thinking, he quietly stood, grabbed a larger blanket from the hallway closet, and carefully tucked it around her.
Then, instead of going to his room, Ryder sank into the single armchair across from the couch.
---
1:03 AM
Mason crept in to get a glass of water.
He paused when he saw Ryder in the chair, half-asleep, staring at Scarlett.
"Bro… what are you doing?" Mason whispered.
"Shh," Ryder muttered, not looking away. "She fell asleep."
"So? She'll be fine. Go to bed."
Ryder rubbed his hand over his face. "She just looked... tired. Not physically — like, soul tired."
Mason blinked. "That's... surprisingly deep."
"Shut up."
Mason smirked. "You like her."
"I'm annoyed by her."
"Sure. That's why you've been staring at her for two hours like a poetic emo loser."
Ryder didn't respond.
Mason raised an eyebrow. "You stayed up to make sure she was okay?"
Ryder finally said, "Yeah."
Mason paused. Then, quietly: "She's gonna break your heart, you know."
Ryder smiled faintly. "I know."
---
6:48 AM
Scarlett blinked awake to sunlight peeking through the curtains. Her neck ached. Her back was stiff.
And then… she saw him.
Ryder, still in the armchair. Legs stretched out. One arm hanging lazily over the side. Head tilted back.
He had fallen asleep watching over her.
Scarlett's chest tightened. Uncomfortable. Warm. Confused.
She got up slowly, the blanket still around her, and whispered, "Hey."
Ryder stirred.
His eyes opened, groggy, then widened slightly when he saw her standing there.
"Oh—uh—hey. Good morning."
"You slept out here?"
He shrugged. "Didn't want to leave you alone."
Scarlett stared at him.
And for the first time in a long while, she didn't have a snappy comeback.
Instead, she whispered, "Thank you."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Don't mention it."
But she would.
Because something had changed last night.
And now… she couldn't pretend she hadn't noticed.
~COLLEGE~
Scarlett didn't know why she told Katarina.
Maybe because Katarina had a calm kind of wisdom that made people talk.
Maybe because it was a quiet Wednesday, and the sky was gray, and Scarlett's thoughts had been anything but.
They sat under one of the trees near the art building, Scarlett picking at the edge of her notebook, Katarina sketching lazy swirls into hers.
Scarlett cleared her throat. "So… I fell asleep at the Sinclair mansion."
Katarina didn't look up. "I figured. You didn't reply to my texts until 6 AM."
Scarlett hesitated. "Ryder… stayed up all night."
Katarina's pencil froze.
"He sat in a chair. Just watched over me."
Now Katarina did look up. "And you're telling me this because…?"
"Because it's weird."
"No, Scarlett," Katarina said softly. "It's not weird. It's sweet. It's unexpected. It's Ryder doing something out of character for someone he clearly cares about."
Scarlett exhaled sharply. "I don't want this to be complicated."
"It already is."
---
Meanwhile – Across Campus
Ezra watched Scarlett from a distance.
She didn't notice.
She was smiling. Not wide. But soft. Gentle. The kind of smile that lingered after you remembered something you weren't supposed to care about.
She was with Katarina, and something about the way she was talking… made Ezra feel like he'd missed a step.
That something was shifting.
Later that day, he caught up with her outside their Lit classroom.
"Hey," he said casually.
"Hey," she answered, glancing up at him.
He fell into step beside her. "You've been... distant."
"I've been busy."
"Is it because of him?"
Scarlett stopped walking.
Ezra turned to face her.
"I saw you with Ryder," he said. "At the café. At the courtyard. And the way you looked this morning…"
"Ezra—"
"I just need to know," he said quietly, "is he getting to you?"
Scarlett hesitated.
And that was the answer.
Ezra's face softened. "Okay."
"You don't understand," she said, almost whispering. "I don't want to like him."
"Why not?"
"Because he doesn't take anything seriously."
Ezra looked at her carefully. "Are you sure about that?"
Scarlett opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Because suddenly, she wasn't sure at all.
---
Later That Night – At the Mansion
Scarlett was in the hallway when she heard Ryder laughing with Mason.
But it wasn't loud or arrogant or showy.
It was genuine.
Warm.
The kind of laugh that sneaks into your chest and stays there.
She stood there for a moment, listening.
Then Ryder appeared in the hall, shirt half-tucked, grinning like a kid who'd just pulled off a prank.
He stopped short when he saw her.
"You okay?" he asked.
Scarlett nodded slowly. "You're… different."
He blinked. "In a bad way?"
"No. In a…" Her voice caught slightly. "In a 'you're making this harder for me' kind of way."
Ryder's smile softened.
"Good," he whispered.
And then walked past her — not pushing, not flirting — just leaving her with a heart that was beating too loudly for comfort.