The weeks blurred into a sweet, secret rhythm after their first real date. Whenever they could steal away, Derek and Stiles made it happen—quick lunches in hidden cafes, sunset walks in quiet parks, even a stolen afternoon at a museum where they held hands in the shadows, whispering flirty nothings. Stiles’s excuses to Jackson grew easier: “Girls’ night,” “Shopping with friends,” “Yoga class.” He barely noticed, too wrapped up in his own routine, while Stiles’s heart bloomed every time she slipped out to meet her real love.

One crisp Friday evening, Derek texted her: Pack an overnight bag. Tell him you’re staying at a friend’s. I’ve got plans for us. Stiles’s pulse raced as she lied smoothly to Jackson about a “spa sleepover with the girls.” He waved her off without a second thought.