The house was dimly lit, pulsing with music that was too loud to think but not loud enough to drown out thoughts. People moved through rooms like shadows—laughing, flirting, sipping from red cups. Aiden sat on the sofa, legs slightly apart, one arm resting along the back, dangerously close to her shoulders. She sat beside him, her knees pulled up, fingers playing with a loose thread on her jeans.

Her hair—orange with streaks of teal-blue—glowed faintly under the LED strips clinging to the walls. Aiden kept stealing glances. The way her eyes flicked across the room, the way she bit her lip in thought. She wasn’t smiling much tonight. She looked beautiful.

“You good?” he asked, leaning a little closer.

She nodded and gave a soft smile. “Yeah. Just... tired people-watching, I guess.”

He chuckled. “I’ll be back in a sec. Need to hit the bathroom before someone locks themselves in again.”

She gave him a thumbs-up as he stood. As he walked away, he caught himself glancing over his shoulder twice. She stayed put. Safe. He forced himself to let go of the tension. Just a few minutes.

It wasn’t more than four.

But when Aiden returned, a guy he didn’t recognize was sitting in his spot. Tall, smug, probably drunk—leaning too close. She gave the guy a tight, polite smile, her body angled slightly away. She laughed once—forced and shallow. Aiden’s stomach turned.

She saw him.

Her eyes lit up.

Relief.

She stood up fast—practically stumbling toward him.

“There you are,” she said, slipping her hand into his like it was normal. Like it was theirs.

He froze, confused—but let her take it.

She turned back to the guy. “Sorry. This is my boyfriend.”

The guy blinked. “Oh.” His smile faltered.

Then she did it.

She leaned up and kissed Aiden on the mouth.

Not a peck.

Not a quick pretend.

Her lips pressed into his—warm, soft, full. Her fingers touched the side of his neck, just slightly, like she meant it. It lasted only two seconds. Maybe three. But time shattered.

Aiden’s brain stalled. His heart crashed like waves. Her mouth was on his. She tasted like mint gum and cheap rosé. He didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe. He just... existed in her orbit.

She pulled back and looked at the guy. “So, yeah. Sorry.”

The other man backed off fast, hands up. “Didn’t know. Sorry, my bad.”

He disappeared into the kitchen, and silence crept back into Aiden’s mind.

She turned to him, cheeks pink. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was a lot. I just—he was making me really uncomfortable, and you were gone and then I saw you and I just thought—okay, desperate times.”

He swallowed. His lips still tingled.

“No, it’s—It’s fine,” he managed. His voice cracked slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “It worked. So... thanks for existing.”

He laughed. Nervous. “Anytime.”

They sat back down. She curled up closer than before, almost tucked against his side now. His pulse refused to settle.

“I hope I didn’t make things weird,” she said softly, looking at the floor.

“No,” he said, too fast. “Not weird. You did what you had to. I get it.”

“Yeah.” She gave a tiny laugh. “I mean, I’ve never used the ‘boyfriend’ lie before. Guess you should be honored.”

“I am,” he said quietly, and she smiled again without catching the weight in his tone.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her tattoo peeked out from her collar—a small inked crescent near her collarbone. Her lips were redder than before.

She was still too close. She smelled like citrus shampoo and some subtle perfume that made his head spin.

He forced his hands to stay still.

She had kissed him. Lied for him. Lied about him. And for a moment—a stupid, selfish, fleeting moment—it had felt real.

But it wasn’t.

Not for her.

Just survival. Just a trick to make some guy leave.

He stared ahead, forcing himself to look calm, to be her best friend, to pretend he hadn’t just lived a dream in slow motion.

“Still,” she added, nudging his leg with hers. “You were kind of perfect timing.”

He smiled, barely. “Yeah. I guess I always am.”