I don’t think. I just move.
I grab a stack of red Solo cups from the end table and head toward the kitchen. Luke catches my eye as I pass, brows lifting in surprise.
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I say quietly, brushing past him close enough that our arms touch. “Let me help.”
He watches me for a second—soft, searching—then nods once. “Okay.”
The four of us work in easy silence for a while. Ty blasts music from his phone to fill the quiet, some playlist full of early-2000s pop-punk that makes Will roll his eyes but doesn’t stop him from humming along under his breath. I rinse cups in the sink, stack pizza boxes in the recycling bin, wipe down counters. Luke sweeps, then starts loading the dishwasher beside me, our elbows bumping every few seconds.
It’s… normal. Domestic. The kind of thing I never let myself imagine having with him before.
When the last trash bag is tied and the counters arewiped down, Ty flops dramatically onto the couch with a groan. “We’re officially adults. I hate it.”
Will snorts from the armchair. “You say that every Saturday night.”
“Because it’s true every Saturday night.”
Luke laughs—bright, easy—and crosses the room to stand in front of me. I’m leaning against the kitchen counter, drying my hands on a dish towel. He steps right into my space, arms sliding around my waist, face tipping up to mine.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders automatically, pulling him in until our foreheads touch.
“So,” he murmurs, voice low enough that only I can hear. “Was it as bad as you thought it would be?”
I look down at him—cheeks still flushed from laughing, eyes bright and steady—and feel something warm and steady settle in my chest.
I grin, slow and real.
“Not even close,” I say softly. “It wasn’t bad at all.”
His smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Told you.”
“Yeah,” I admit, brushing my thumb along his jaw. “You did.”
He rises on his toes and kisses me—quick, sweet, right there in the middle of the kitchen with his roommates pretending not to watch. Ty wolf-whistles from the couch; Will just sighs like he’s above it all but doesn’t look away.
Luke pulls back, still grinning. “See? They like you.”
“They tolerate me,” I correct, but there’s no heat in it.
“They love you,” he counters, pressing another kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Because I love you. And they trust my taste.”
I huff a quiet laugh, tightening my arms around him. “Cocky.”
“Confident,” he corrects, nuzzling into my neck for a second before stepping back. “You staying?”
I glance at Ty and Will—Ty giving an exaggerated thumbs-up, Will offering a small, genuine nod.
“Yeah,” I say, looking back at Luke. “I’m staying.”
Luke’s grin turns blinding. He grabs my hand and tugs me toward the hallway.
“Night, losers,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Night, lovebirds,” Ty yells back.
“Use protection and don’t be loud,” Will deadpans.
