I lean back on the worn-out couch in the living room, the familiar scent of the house wrapping around me like a second skin. Everyone’s here—Asher, my best friend since forever, sitting next to me; just a few feet away, surrounded by friends. The noise is a mix of laughter, teasing, and the low hum of music playing somewhere in the background. It’s typical, chaotic, and somehow comforting.

My eyes keep drifting to her. She’s talking with some of her friends, the way her hair falls across her face catching the light just right. She’s got this half-smile, like she knows something no one else does. I catch myself tightening my jaw when I see a guy lean in a little too close, but I don’t say anything. Not here. Not now.

Asher nudges me, probably noticed my gaze, but he just smirks and shrugs like it’s nothing. We’ve known each other too long for any of this to be a secret.

She catches my eye suddenly, that spark of mischief flashing in her gaze. We share a look that says a thousand things, none of them spoken aloud. It’s our game—pretending we don’t care, even though everything about me wants to reach out and pull her close right now.

I glance around the room. Everyone thinks they know what’s going on between us. Some probably think we hate each other. Hell, I even say the words sometimes. But no one sees what I see—the way she’s the only one who gets me, the one person I’d never let go of.

As the night goes on, the noise fades into the background. My focus stays locked on her. That restless energy inside me grows—the kind that only she can calm down. Because despite the arrogance, despite the fights and the jealous glances, she’s my home.

And right now, sitting here in this crowded room, I’m the only one who knows it.