You weren’t supposed to notice the way her hand lingered.

Nayeon sat beside you on the couch, her boyfriend across the room too busy laughing at something on his phone to care. But you noticed. The way her fingers gently rested on your thigh—too casual to call her out, too intimate to ignore.

She leaned in a little closer, voice low. “You always wear these shorts around me on purpose, don’t you?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Nayeon…”

“What?” She said, all fake innocence, her nails lightly dragging over your skin as she smiled without looking at you. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”