The banging was aggressive.

Not polite-knocking-on-a-door aggressive.

More like we're-about-to-break-this-down-if-you-don't-answer aggressive.

I shot up slightly in bed, heart jumping straight into my throat.

Luke didn't move as fast—but his arm tightened around me instinctively, like his body reacted before his brain did.

We both froze.

Another bang.

"MADDIE!" Josh's voice. Loud. Panicked. "ARE YOU ALIVE?"

"Why does he always assume the worst?" I whispered.

Luke, very unhelpfully, looked like he was about to laugh.

"Because it's you," he murmured.

I elbowed him lightly.

Another round of knocking.

"Maddie, open the door!" Henry this time. "We're on a schedule!"

"And Luke is missing!" Maya added. "Like—fully missing. Gone. Vanished. Disappeared into thin air!"

I slowly turned my head toward Luke.

He looked back at me.

We both blinked.

Once.

Twice.

This was bad.

"Just tell them I'm here," he whispered, way too calm for the situation.

I stared at him.

"I am not telling them that you're here."

"Why?"

"Because," I whisper-hissed, "they will immediately understand why you're here."

He paused.

Then, very thoughtfully—

"We."

I narrowed my eyes.

"We what?"

"That we—"

"Do not finish that sentence."

He smirked.

"Oh, come on, they're not stupid."

I slapped his arm.

"Luke, this is not the moment."

Another loud bang on the door.

"Oh my God, she's dead," Josh declared dramatically from outside.

"I knew it," Maya added. "She always dies on important days."

"I DO NOT DIE ON IMPORTANT DAYS!" I snapped back, still not opening the door.

There was a pause outside.

Then—

"...she's alive," Henry said, relieved.

Luke bit his lip.

I pointed at him threateningly.

Do. Not. Laugh.

He was absolutely going to laugh.

"What are you doing?" Maya called. "Why aren't you ready? And do you know where the hell Luke is?!"

I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal. Casual. Like there wasn't a full-grown man currently in my bed.

"Why would I know where Luke is?" I said.

A beat of silence.

Then muffled whispering.

Suspicious whispering.

Very suspicious whispering.

I narrowed my eyes at the door.

"They're plotting," I whispered.

"They're always plotting," Luke replied.

More whispering.

Then footsteps.

Retreating.

I waited.

Waited.

Waited.

Silence.

I exhaled.

"They're gone."

Luke nodded once.

Then immediately flopped back into the pillow like nothing had just happened.

I stared at him.

"Luke."

"Hm?"

"We have a problem."

"We always have a problem."

I grabbed a pillow and hit him with it.

"Focus."

He sat up this time, running a hand through his hair, finally looking like he understood the situation.

"Okay," he said. "Plan."

"Yes. Plan."

We both paused.

Then—

"You sneak out," I said.

"Through the door where they were just standing?" he asked.

"...good point."

"The window?" he suggested.

I turned slowly to look at the window.

Second floor.

I turned back.

"You want to die on an important day?"

"Fair."

We both sat there, thinking.

Then his eyes lit up slightly.

"Timing."

I blinked. "What?"

"We wait until everyone's distracted. Wedding chaos. People running around. No one paying attention."

"...that's actually not terrible."

"I have good ideas sometimes."

"Let's not get carried away."

He smirked.

I rolled my eyes but stood up, already moving toward my closet.

"Okay. You—" I pointed at him, "—stay hidden. Silent. Invisible. Not a single sound."

"Yes, ma'am."

I turned back.

"Do not 'yes ma'am' me."

He grinned.

This man was impossible.

I grabbed my dress, shoes, everything I needed, and headed to the bathroom.

"Five minutes," I said before closing the door. "Then we execute the dumbest plan of our lives."

"Wouldn't be the first time," he called back.

I smiled despite myself.

And as I got ready—heart still racing, mind still spinning, everything still new and too much and not enough at the same time—

One thought settled quietly beneath it all.

I was halfway into the dress when I felt it.

That stare.

I looked up.

Through the mirror, there he was—leaning casually against the wall like he had nowhere else to be, arms crossed, watching me like this was the most interesting thing in the world.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want something?"

He didn't even hesitate.

"No," he said. "I'm pretty good right here."

I turned slightly, narrowing my eyes at him.

"What are you doing?"

A small shrug.

"Watching."

I blinked.

"You're so weird."

"Yeah," he said, completely unbothered. "You've mentioned that too."

I rolled my eyes, turning back to the mirror, trying to focus on fixing the dress.

It was one of those impossible zippers—halfway up my back, designed by someone who clearly hated women.

I struggled with it for a second, then paused.

"...okay," I muttered. "This is actually annoying."

Behind me, I heard him push off the wall.

"Need help?"

I glanced at him through the mirror again.

"If that's actual help," I warned, "and not whatever version of help you're imagining, then yes."

He smirked slightly.

"Wow. No faith in me."

"None," I said immediately.

He stepped closer.

Slowly.

And suddenly the space between us felt... smaller again.

Different.

I turned my back to him, lifting my hair slightly so he could reach the zipper.

"Just zip it," I said.

"Bossy."

"Luke."

"Okay, okay."

I felt his fingers brush lightly against my back as he took the zipper—

And then paused.

Of course he paused.

I caught his eyes in the mirror.

"Luke."

Instead of answering, he leaned in slightly—just enough for his lips to brush against the side of my neck.

Soft.

Unhurried.

And completely distracting.

I closed my eyes for a second, exhaling.

"You're not helping."

"I disagree," he murmured.

His hand finally moved—but instead of zipping it up, it just... stayed there for a moment.

Then his gaze met mine in the mirror again.

"It suits you," he said quietly.

I huffed a small laugh, trying to keep my composure.

"Yeah, it would be really bad if it didn't after I bought it."

He nodded slightly.

"Fair."

A pause.

Then—

"But I think I like you better without it."

I turned my head slightly, giving him a look.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Luke—"

Before I could finish, I felt the zipper move—

Down.

Not up.

I froze.

"Luke."

No response.

"Luke."

"I'm making a point."

"This is not a point, this is sabotage."

A quiet laugh against my skin.

"You started it."

"I did not—"

Whatever I was about to say got lost somewhere between his closeness and the way my brain just... stopped cooperating for a second.

I turned slightly toward him, ready to argue—

But the words didn't come out the way I planned.

They never did with him.

"You're impossible," I muttered instead.

"And yet," he said softly, "you're still here."

That—

That shut me up.

Completely.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Just looking at each other.

Again.

Like we kept forgetting how to act normal around each other now.

Like normal didn't exist anymore.

Then I shook my head slightly, stepping back just enough to create a bit of space again—breathing, grounding.

"Okay," I said, trying to sound serious again. "Enough. We have a wedding to get through before you ruin my dress completely."

He raised his hands slightly in mock surrender.

"Fine."

I turned back, pulling the zipper up myself this time—quick, efficient, no room for him to interfere again.

When I finished, I glanced at him through the mirror.

He was still watching.

Of course he was.

I sighed.

"You're going to get us caught."

"Not if we stick to the plan," he said.

I turned fully toward him this time.

"Right. The very solid, extremely thought-out, not-at-all-dumb plan."

He grinned.

"Exactly that one."

I tried not to smile.

Failed.

"Okay," I said, taking a breath. "Timing."

He nodded.

The plan, somehow, worked.

It wasn't elegant.

It wasn't smooth.

It was mostly a mix of me opening the door at the right moment, pretending to fix my shoe while scanning the hallway, and Luke slipping out behind me like some kind of well-dressed criminal.

But it worked.

I watched him go—fast, quiet, focused—until he reached his door.

He turned the handle.

Stepped inside.

And for a second, I let myself breathe.

We didn't get caught.

We actually didn't get caught.

I was about to turn away—go meet the others, pretend everything was normal, like nothing had shifted completely overnight—

When his door opened again.

I blinked.

He stepped back out.

I frowned. "What are you—"

He didn't let me finish.

Two quick steps, and he was in front of me again, one hand brushing lightly against my waist as he leaned in and kissed me.

Not rushed.

Not chaotic.

Just... quick, certain, and completely unnecessary in the best way.

My brain short-circuited for half a second.

"Luke—" I whispered against his lips, half warning, half breathless.

"We're going to get caught."

"Probably," he murmured.

And then he kissed me again.

Just because he could.

I pushed lightly against his chest, trying to keep some kind of control over the situation—over myself.

"We're not supposed to—" I started, lowering my voice, glancing instinctively down the hallway.

"At least not right now."

He pulled back just enough to look at me.

That look again.

Soft. Certain. Completely unfazed.

"Relax," he said quietly. "Five seconds."

I stared at him.

"You're impossible."

"And yet," he said, a small smile forming, "you're still here."

I felt my face warm instantly.

Great.

Fantastic.

Perfect timing for me to lose any ability to act normal.

"Go," I said, nudging him back toward his door. "Get ready. Be a responsible best man or whatever it is you're supposed to be."

He didn't move immediately.

Of course he didn't.

Instead, he looked at me like he was memorizing something.

Then, finally—

"See you later," he said.

Soft.

Certain.

Like it meant more than just later.

I swallowed, trying to keep my composure.

"Yeah," I muttered, waving him off. "Get out. Go."

He smiled—actually smiled, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me—and disappeared back into his room.

The door clicked shut.

And I stood there for a second.

Just a second.

Letting it all settle.

Then I exhaled, straightened my dress, and forced my brain back into reality.

Wedding.

People.

Normal behavior.

I stepped out into the hallway and started walking, heels clicking softly against the floor, posture straight, expression composed—

Like nothing had changed.

Like my entire world hadn't quietly shifted overnight.

Like I wasn't carrying something new, something real, something dangerous and beautiful all at once.

As I reached the main area, voices filled the air again—laughter, last-minute chaos, people running around with flowers and schedules and stress.

And somehow—

I slipped right back into it.

Just another bridesmaid.

Just another part of the wedding.

Only now—

I wasn't the same person who had walked into that room last night.

And the moment I spotted Luke across the space—already in place, composed, talking to Henry like nothing had happened— And then felt his eyes flick toward me, just for a second—

I knew.

Neither was he.