The afternoon sun cut through the blinds of Kyle's apartment in thin golden slats. Somewhere down the hall, the shower was running—had been running for twenty minutes, which meant Evan was either washing his hair or standing under the water doing absolutely nothing, as was his signature move.

Mandy sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through her phone. The apartment smelled like coffee and dryer sheets. Normal Tuesday things.

The bathroom door opened. Steam rolled out into the hallway like fog. Evan emerged in gray sweats slung low on his hips, towel draped over one shoulder, hair still dripping onto his collarbone. His skin was flushed pink from the heat.