Lexi woke tangled in blankets, her pillow half off the bed, and her mouth dry from too much ice cream and not enough truth.
She told herself she didn't care. She told herself all night. But somehow, she'd watched the same five clips of Noah and Molly over and over again—like self-inflicted paper cuts. The dinner. The lingering hand. The moment they disappeared into the hotel room.
She'd even gone back and watched it without sound.
That was how far gone she was.
Worse, she'd finished the ice cream and gone digging for a backup pint like a woman possessed.
She rolled out of bed and into leggings, her hoodie two sizes too big and comfortingly dramatic.
She padded into the kitchen ready to avoid Noah, tell him he was unprofessional, and probably slam a door or two.
What she wasn't ready for… was pancakes.
He was at the stove, flipping them like he hadn't broken the internet twelve hours ago. There were scrambled eggs on a second burner. A bowl of fresh strawberries. And her favorite oat milk latte, waiting beside a plate.
Lexi blinked. "What is happening?"
Noah didn't look up. "Morning."
She stared harder. "Are you dying?"
"Not yet."
"You cook now?"
"I survive," he said. "Figured we'd need some fuel before your parents interrogate me."
She eyed the plate like it might sprout legs. "This isn't laced with glitter or protein powder?"
He flipped another pancake. "No glitter. No sabotage. Just pancakes and silence. Take it or leave it."
Lexi sat down. Slowly. "Nice PR move."
He poured himself coffee and finally met her gaze. "It's not PR."
She glanced down at the food. It smelled amazing.
She took a bite. It was annoying how good it was.
She mumbled, "Thanks," and then, louder, "Not bad for a guy who eats protein powder like yogurt."
He smirked, and for a moment, it almost felt normal—until she remembered the text, the kiss, the room.
She stabbed another piece of pancake a little harder than necessary.
⸻
They drove in silence for the first ten minutes, Lexi scrolling her phone and pretending she wasn't painfully aware of Noah beside her. He drove like he did everything else—calm, focused, confident.
"So," he said at last, "how terrifying are your parents? Should I prepare a formal speech?"
Lexi exhaled slowly. "They're not terrifying. Just… intense. Weirdly emotional and formal at the same time. Think Jane Austen meets high-functioning theatre kids."
"So, your natural habitat."
She glanced sideways at him. "Shut up."
They hit a rough patch of road and the car jolted. Lexi reached out to steady herself and—unfortunately—her hand landed on Noah's thigh. His inner thigh.
Her entire body froze.
So did his. For different reasons.
When she finally yanked her hand back, Noah's grip on the wheel had gone white-knuckled. His jaw was clenched like he was doing long division in his head. And she was absolutely sure she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.
She turned toward the window and didn't speak again until they passed a little school building with ivy-covered walls.
"I once got detention for trying to sell rhinestone-studded rulers."
Noah blinked. "That feels disturbingly on-brand."
"I was ten. It was a limited-edition line."
He smiled quietly. "You're kind of scary sometimes."
She smiled back. Just a little.
⸻
The estate was a ridiculous fairytale.
Golden stone walls, fountains, manicured gardens, and a dog named Percival who looked like he attended formal dinners.
Lexi's mom opened the door in pearls and perfume and immediately hugged Noah like he was her long-lost son.
"You're much better looking in person! Oh, and taller! Lexi didn't mention tall."
"Mum," Lexi groaned.
Her dad arrived with a gin and tonic already in hand. "Finally! A man in the house. God help us, it's been all scented candles and passive-aggressive throw pillows."
Lunch was in the garden—lemon chicken, roasted vegetables, homemade lemonade, and three types of bread.
Lexi sat upright, visibly bracing.
Her dad started in almost immediately: "So there we were—northern Morocco, 2004, and I've just been bitten by a camel. On the ass."
Noah blinked. "What?"
"Oh, he means the time he bumped into a rock near a camel enclosure," her mom clarified. "The camel was three meters away and didn't notice."
"I screamed," her dad said. "Heroically."
Lexi groaned. "I told you—don't feed him gin before dessert."
Noah laughed. "It's fine. I like chaos."
Lexi's mom leaned across the table. "That's good. Because our daughter is chaos. Beautiful, glitter-coated chaos."
Lexi scowled. "This is why I don't bring people home."
Later, after berry tart and an entire bottle of sparkling rosé, her mother announced they were doing a TikTok.
"You're a fake married influencer now," she said, "and I'm a wine influencer. We must collab."
Noah was helplessly dragged into an 80s dance routine. Her dad joined in with finger guns. Lexi filmed them and nearly cried laughing.
Noah stumbled through every step but didn't complain once.
Lexi watched him, arms crossed, lip caught between her teeth.
Her mom nudged her. "He's sweet. You like him."
Lexi didn't answer.
But her heart thumped a little harder than it should have.
⸻
They left just before sunset.
Her parents hugged Noah like he was blood. Her dad offered to take him fly fishing. Her mom cried a little.
"You're welcome anytime," she whispered. "And Lexi, don't mess this one up."
Lexi didn't reply.
They walked to the car slowly, still full of laughter and wine.
Noah's phone buzzed.
He glanced down.
Lexi glanced too.
Molly: "Are we going to talk about that kiss last night?"
The laughter drained from her body.
Noah tucked the phone away, unreadable.
Lexi didn't say a word. Just opened the passenger door and climbed in.
⸻
The ride back was quiet.
Not peaceful.
Just quiet.
Noah tried once. "Your dad's stories should be a podcast."
Lexi nodded without looking at him.
The rest of the drive passed like fog.
⸻
At home, Lexi lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
Her chest felt tight. And heavy.
She muttered, "Stupid challenge."
Across the hall, Noah sat on the edge of his bed, staring at Molly's text.
Then he deleted it.
But the knot in his chest stayed.
And neither of them slept.