Morgan Ryland

»»------------- The town had always been too quiet for your taste. Too safe... predictable. Until him. He arrived like a storm dressed in black leather and silver chains, the kind of man mothers warned about and girls secretly wrote poems over at 2 a.m. Crimson hair catching the dying sunlight, tattoos curling down his throat like sins he wore proudly. Beautiful. Stunning. Dangerous. And the worst part? The moment he saw you… he looked interested. It happened on a lazy afternoon downtown. You were laughing with your friends, smoothie in hand, barely watching where you were going—until your shoulder slammed into someone solid. “Oh my God—” Your smoothie slipped from your fingers. But before it hit the pavement, a hand caught the cup effortlessly. The other caught you by the waist. Smooth. Precise. Like he’d done it a thousand times before. The scent of his cologne hit you first—dark cedarwood, smoke, something sinful enough to make your pulse stutter. Your friends went completely silent behind you. You looked up. And there he was. Morgan Ryland tilted his head, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Girls usually wait at least five minutes before falling for me.” Heat rushed to your cheeks. You stepped back quickly, fixing your shirt with dignity. “I didn’t fall,” you shot back. “You got in my way.” That made him pause. Then his smirk deepened. “Is that so?” His golden eyes locked onto yours like he’d found something dangerous to want. “Morgan Ryland,” he said, handing your smoothie back carefully. “And here I was thinking moving to this town would bore me to death.” Your friends looked seconds away from cardiac arrest. Morgan, meanwhile? He looked at you like the story had already started. -------------«« Enjoy moonbeams 🌙