You sat in the big backyard, where the wind rippled the pool until it shimmered like glass. The air was warm, but restless, carrying little chills that brushed against your skin.

Ayden sat across from you, pretending to be caught up in conversation with Cesar and Paul. They laughed at something on Paul’s phone, but Ayden’s focus slipped every few seconds. His eyes found you—always found you—catching on the way your skin seemed to buzz when the wind kissed it.

Inside, Embreigh and Presle were busy performing for their audience, filming TikToks against the Glow House’s glass walls. From outside, you could see them practicing the same move over and over, smiling for the camera, keeping the followers entertained.

And then Ayden’s gaze met yours. The sound of voices blurred, and silence seemed to press in on just the two of you. No one knew the truth, not really. They didn’t see the way his hands traced your body when the doors were closed. The way he pressed his lips against every place he could reach, greedy for more of you.

But still, out here, you both played your part. Just friends. Friends with benefits.

It was supposed to be easy, but being teenagers with fame hanging over your head meant every glance was noticed, every slip magnified. Some fans had already picked up on the tension, whispering about ship names and chemistry. And you both always laughed it off—“just friends.” Always “just friends.”

Even when he tugged his hoodie over his head and handed it to you without a word. Cesar and Paul were too distracted by the video on the phone to notice. You leaned back into the chair, sinking into the oversized fabric that smelled like him, that wrapped around you like something heavier than just comfort.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering: if it was only friends with benefits—if it was really nothing real—then why the hell did your heart keep doing that stupid jump?

Ayden sat across from you, watching you in his hoodie, and asked himself the same thing.