Stiles’s tiny apartment felt even smaller that night. She hadn’t slept at all. Tears kept falling no matter how many times she wiped them away. The memory of standing in front of Derek’s parents, forcing the words “just a friend” out of her mouth, kept replaying. She had cried herself raw, calling herself a fool for falling so hard for a man who couldn’t even name what they were.

A loud knock on her door at 2 a.m. made her jump. She opened it with red, puffy eyes and found Derek standing there, hair messy, eyes dark with something she couldn’t read.