Chris and I were always close—friends who could talk about anything, laugh at the dumbest jokes, and stay up way too late just hanging out. But somewhere along the way, things changed. The lines between friendship and something more started to blur.

It happened one night, out of nowhere in his bedroom. A shared moment, a spark we couldn’t ignore. Neither of us wanted a relationship or the drama that came with it, so we made an agreement: friends with benefits. No feelings, no strings, just us when we needed each other.

At first, it worked. We laughed about it, making light of what could’ve been messy. Chris was everything people saw on the surface—famous, hot, sexy, confident, and effortlessly cool—but with me, he let his guard down. He didn’t have to be the guy everyone expected him to be. And maybe that’s what made it so easy for me to fall into this arrangement, to believe we could keep it simple.

But the thing about feelings is that they don’t listen to rules. They creep in, quiet and uninvited, until you can’t ignore them anymore. Every glance, every touch, every stolen moment started to mean more than it should. And no matter how hard I tried to keep my distance, I found myself wanting more.

The truth is, nothing stays uncomplicated forever—not when it’s Chris, not when it’s us.