Danny had been through a lot in the past few months.

Unrequited love? Check.
Accidental fake dating? Check.
Best friend in full-fledged jealousy meltdown? Big fucking check.

But this?

This was new territory.

Because tonight, in front of a full house of people, under the dim glow of party lights, Jake Carter kissed him.

And then—because Jake was nothing if not consistent—

Jake ran. Again.

Danny wasn’t even supposed to be here.

After the last party ended in a disaster of epic proportions, Danny had decided he was done with the whole scene.

But then Sophie had shown up at his apartment with three shots of tequila and a mission.

“You’re coming,” she had said, shoving a jacket at him.

Danny had scowled. “I don’t want to deal with Jake tonight.”

“Then don’t.” She smirked. “Let him deal with you.”

And honestly?

Danny was too tired to argue.

So he let her drag him to yet another packed-to-the-walls house party, where the music was too loud, the drinks were too strong, and—of course—Jake was already there.

Standing across the room.

Watching him.

And suddenly, Danny knew.

Tonight, something was going to break.

Danny had done his best to ignore Jake.

He had spent the first hour chatting with friends, lingering close to Leo (who had fully committed to being his emotional support chaos gremlin), and pretending that Jake wasn’t watching his every move.

But then, because Leo was a menace, he had made things infinitely worse.

It started innocently enough.

A casual hand on Danny’s lower back.

A too-close whisper in his ear.

And then—the final nail in the coffin.

Leo, smirking like the devil himself, tilted his head and said loud enough for Jake to hear:

“So, you and me—are we making this official, or what?”

Danny had barely processed the words before he felt it.

A shift in the air.

A storm brewing in real-time.

And then—

Jake was right there.

Right in front of him.

Right in his space.

And then—before Danny could react—

Jake grabbed him.

And kissed him.

Right there. In front of everyone.

Danny’s brain flatlined.

Because—oh, fuck.

Jake was kissing him.

Jake was actually, really, truly kissing him.

And it wasn’t soft or gentle or hesitant.

No, this was raw. Desperate. Messy.

Like Jake had been holding it in for years.

Like Jake was trying to prove something.

Like Jake was finally breaking.

Danny barely had time to process it.

Barely had time to react, to kiss back, to feel the full weight of what was happening—

Before Jake suddenly pulled away.

And then—

Pure, unfiltered panic.

Jake stumbled backward.

Danny, still breathless, still processing, still trying to catch up—

Watched as Jake’s expression crumbled.

Because—oh.

Oh, he was freaking the fuck out.

His hands went to his hair. His breathing uneven. His eyes wide, wild, terrified.

And then—

Then he ran.

Again.

Danny couldn’t move.

Couldn’t react.

Couldn’t do anything but watch him disappear.

And that’s when it hit him.

This wasn’t just a mistake.

This wasn’t just a drunken impulse.

This was real.

And Jake?

Jake was terrified of it.

Danny felt his chest tighten.

Because this time—this time, there was no going back.

And now, Danny had a choice.

Chase him?

Or let him go?

And for the first time, Danny had no idea which one he wanted.