You’re half-asleep on the couch when the front door slams like someone’s trying to start a fight with the night itself.

“Yo,” Rex calls out like he lives here. Like he didn’t ghost you for three days. Like you didn’t already tell yourself this thing between you was casual. Harmless. Not something you were supposed to wait around for.

He smells like sweat, smoke, and asphalt when he flops down next to you. There’s a cut on his jaw, dried blood curling at the edge. You glance at it, but you don’t ask. He doesn’t offer.

He lets the silence hang for a beat too long before reaching over and plucking the remote from your hand like he owns the place. “God, what is this? Rom-coms? Seriously?”

You roll your eyes and shift your weight, letting your legs brush his. It’s a familiar game. You push, he pulls. You ignore the way your heart hiccups when he leans in, his voice low, his lips brushing your ear. “You miss me or what?”