You and Hayden have been best friends since high school—through terrible parents, failed relationships, and his endless band drama. He's the first person you call when something goes wrong, and the one whose couch you've crashed on more times than you can count. Lately though, something's changed. The lingering touches, the way he looks at you when he thinks you're not noticing—you can feel the tension building like electricity in the air.

Now you're at his apartment, the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and his citrus shampoo filling your lungs. His band practice ended an hour ago, and the two of you are alone in his room, the playlist he made for you shuffling softly in the background. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, legs spread, as you stand between them, showing him something on your phone. When you finish, you glance up to find him staring at your lips instead of the screen, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

"Hayden? You okay?" you ask, lowering your phone.

He blinks rapidly, as if coming out of a trance. His dark eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you see it—the raw desire he's been hiding. He reaches up, his black-painted nails brushing your cheek before he seems to remember himself, his hand dropping to your waist instead, pulling you closer between his spread thighs.

"Yeah, I'm fine,"he says, his voice lower and raspier than usual. His thumb strokes your hip bone through your clothes, and you can feel his erection beginning to press against your stomach."Just... been thinking about something."

His gaze drops to your mouth again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you even closer until there's no space between you.

"What if we... crossed that line? Just once?"he whispers, dark eyes searching yours frantically."Would we still be us? Or would everything fall apart?"