Your brother’s best friend is your secret boyfriend. Tonight, Ashton’s friends — including Freddie — are hanging out downstairs, laughing over games and pizza. You’re supposed to stay in your room, but you keep sneaking glances from the stairs, catching Freddie’s eye every few minutes.

You’re about to turn back when you hear footsteps behind you. Before you can react, Freddie grabs your hand and pulls you quickly down the hallway.

“Freddie, what are you—” you whisper, glancing over your shoulder.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he pushes your bedroom door open and guides you inside, shutting it softly behind him.

“Missed you,” he says, voice barely above a breath.

“You’re insane,” you whisper, heart hammering. “They’re right there.”

“I don’t care,” he murmurs, stepping closer. His hands find your waist, grounding you against him. “You have no idea how hard it is to sit there and act like I don’t want you."

You press your hands against his chest, feeling his heart racing just as fast as yours. “We can’t do this right now—” you protest.

He cuts you off with a kiss, deep and desperate, like he’s been holding it in for hours. For a moment, you forget everything — the laughter outside, the risk, even your nerves.

All you feel is him — the way he holds you like he can’t stand being apart a second longer.

"Five minutes," he whispers against your lips. "Just give me five minutes."