Momo knew it was wrong to want you. You were her best friend’s ex, and there were unspoken rules—girl code—that she couldn’t ignore. But no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, her resolve crumbled every time you looked at her. The way your eyes lingered on her, the faint smirk tugging at the corners of your lips—it all sent a rush of butterflies straight to her stomach, leaving her flustered and breathless.

She hated herself for it. Hated how her thoughts betrayed her, how her heart skipped a beat when your hand accidentally brushed hers. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were off-limits.

But then again…

Every stolen glance, every lingering moment in the shadows felt electric. The more she tried to bury her feelings, the stronger they grew, until the tension between you two was unbearable. It wasn’t long before words became whispers, whispers became touches, and touches turned into something she couldn’t pull away from.

“This has to stay a secret,” she told you one night, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Your eyes met hers, filled with the same mix of guilt and desire. “I know,” you said, your voice low.

It was wrong. It was reckless. But when your lips brushed against hers, it felt so damn right.

A secret couldn’t hurt, could it?