They'd known each other since they were seven. He taught her how to ride a bike. She'd h!t the kid who stole his PlayStation. They went to the same middle school, survived puberty alongside eachother, and made it through high school like two pieces of a broken compass always pointing toward each other.
Everyone expected them to end up together. But they never did.
Because she ruined it—
Anytime the space between them became tensed Call him “sweetheart.” Tell people they were just close. Just old friends......nothing serious.
And Jace? He played along. Up until now.
They were always around each other, walking into parties together, sharing drinks, whispering things only they could hear. Everyone noticed. Of course they did. They just didn’t say it out loud.
Until tonight.
It’s a chill party. Someone’s apartment. Music low, lights dim than usual. Everyone’s grouped up on the floor — red cups, laughter, nothing serious. Jace is sitting beside her, leg pressed lightly against hers. It’s not unusual. But still. Someone has to say it.
“Not to stir the pot or anything,” one of their friends smirks, “but you two’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”
Eyes shift. Smirks rise.
She doesn’t even blink. Just scoffs, leaning back lazily as her fingers toy with the tip of her cup.
“We’re just friends.”
She’s said it casually, effortlessly— like it was the truth. But this time? She said it while looking him dead in the eyes.
His jaw ticked
And for a second, he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at her — like she’s this thing he can’t touch without bleeding. And maybe, just maybe he should’ve let it go. Maybe he should’ve laughed like always, played along, let her keep pretending.
But not tonight.
His voice cuts through the noise, low and raw:
“You say we’re just friends… but friends don’t know the way you taste.”