The first time you met the whole group, it was loud, crowded, and slightly overwhelming.

Music blasting, people talking over each other, glasses clinking. The kind of bar where conversations happened half-shouted and half-laughed.

You ended up squeezed in the booth with Kelly, Kate, Georgia, and Amy, while the guys — Harry, Oscar, Connor, Mike, and Ash — went to grab drinks.

That’s when the girls started talking.

Georgia followed your gaze across the room and smirked faintly.

“You’re looking at the wrong one.”

You blinked. “What?”

She tilted her head toward the bar.

Ash.

Even in a packed room, he was easy to pick out. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair slightly messy like he’d run a hand through it too many times. Tattoos crawling up his forearms under the rolled sleeves of his shirt.

He wasn’t loud like the others.

Just standing there.

Watching things.

Listening more than talking.

Kate leaned forward a little. “Just so you know… Ash isn’t really the type.”

“The type for what?” you asked.

Amy stirred her drink slowly. “For… girls.”

Kelly sighed quietly. “Not anymore.”

You looked back toward him.

“Why?”

Georgia shrugged. “His ex. Lily.”

Kate grimaced slightly. “She cheated.”

Amy continued, softer, “And Ash isn’t someone who does casual. Never has been. So it kinda broke him and it took months for him to become…like this. Even more closed off than before.”

Kate nodded. “When he gets involved with someone, it’s serious. Always.”

“So now,” Georgia finished, “he just… doesn’t.”

You watched him again.

He was leaning on the bar, talking to Mike now. His voice low, posture relaxed but solid.

Then his head lifted.

And his eyes landed on you.

Not accidentally.

Not briefly.

He was already watching.

There was something about his gaze that made your stomach dip slightly. Heavy. Focused. Like he noticed more than he said.

You understood what they meant.

Ash didn’t look like someone who played around.

He looked like someone who either committed… or stayed out of it entirely.

Weeks later, the girls had stopped warning you.

Mostly because they didn’t need to anymore.

They’d noticed.

Of course they had.

You and Ash showing up together sometimes. Sitting closer than before. His hand resting on the back of your chair. The quiet conversations between you two while the others talked.

Nothing obvious.

Nothing official.

And whenever one of them gave you that look, you’d shrug it off, kept it brief with a weak excuse.

Even if Georgia’s raised eyebrow said she wasn’t completely convinced.

This morning, light filtered softly through Ash’s curtains.

You woke slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling that had become… less unfamiliar lately.

Your body was warm.

Mostly because Ash was still behind you.

One arm heavy around your waist, his chest against your back, breathing slow and steady.

You shifted a little.

Ash reacted instantly, even half-asleep.

His arm tightened around you.

A low hum left his throat as he buried his face briefly against the back of your shoulder.

“Stop moving.”

Your lips twitched.

“I have to.”

His voice was rough with sleep.

“No you don’t.”

You turned your head slightly to look back at him.

His hair was messy, eyes still closed, face relaxed in a way it never quite was when he was fully awake, but somehow still serious.

For a second you almost forgot the time.

Then it hit you.

“Oh shit.”

Ash opened his eyes.

“What.”

“The girls.”

His brow furrowed slightly.

“What about them.”

You pushed yourself up onto one elbow, suddenly a lot more awake.

“They think I came bach at the apartment yesterday.”

Yeah. Sharing an apartment with 4 friends suspecting you to have a relationship with the guy they warned you about isn’t the best.

Ash blinked slowly.

Then he rubbed a hand over his face.

“And?”

You stared at him.

“And they’re gonna ask questions.”

“They always ask questions.”

“That’s different.”

He looked at you now, properly awake.

“They already suspect we’re spending time together,” you said.