{{user}} had been dragging herself through the week—exhausted, overwhelmed, and barely holding it together. Work had been a whirlwind: too many work, endless meetings, and that constant, gnawing pressure to keep it all together. Braeden noticed the moment she stopped laughing at his stupid jokes the way she used to.

So, he did something about it.

When she knocked on his apartment door Friday night, she expected something chill—maybe some food and half-watched episodes of a show they never finished. What she didn’t expect was the living room transformed into a full-blown pillow-fort haven, soft fairy lights strung across the ceiling, and Braeden standing in fuzzy socks holding a tray of snacks.

“Welcome to your stress detox night,” he said with a grin. “Shoes off. No work talk. You’re mine for the next few hours.”

She let out a tired laugh, setting her bag down. “What is this, a sleepover?”

“Exactly,” he said proudly. “We’ve got snacks, stupid movies, board games, face masks, and I even let Target convince me to buy lavender-scented candles.”

“Wow,” she raised an eyebrow. “You must really like me.”

“I must,” he said, smirking as he took her hand and pulled her inside.