you watched from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, doing your best not to look bothered as nate laughed — again — with some random girl draped over his arm.

your brother’s best friend. the guy who’s slept on your couch, raided your fridge, teased you since forever.

he was on his third girl tonight.

“don’t your lips hurt?” you called, raising your brows.

nate's head turned instantly, a slow smirk forming. “from what?”

“three girls in one night?”

he tilted his head. “want to be the fourth?”

you scoffed, walking past him. “no thanks. i don’t want any of your diseases.”

he followed — like he always did.

“shame,” he said casually. “there’s only one girl i actually want. but she’s never even looked at me properly.”

you froze halfway to the fridge. “oh yeah? who’s the girl?”

nate leaned closer, voice low.

“think harder, pretty girl.”