Liam’s POV

The room was dim except for the soft glow of the TV casting flickers across the walls, the low roar of the Champions League semi-finals filling the space like white noise. I sat on the edge of Noah’s worn-out couch, our thighs pressed together beneath a shared blanket that clung to my skin like heat—his heat.

I shifted, careful not to tug the cover away from him, though every brush of our legs sent sparks skittering up my spine. It should’ve been normal—just two best ...