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I made one mistake.

Just one.

I invited my best friend over.

His na is Milo. He’s been my best friend since middle school, back when we both had bad hair and worse social skills. He’s funny, wildly nosy, and has the emotional subtlety of a foghorn.

I forgot those last two things when I texted him:

"Co by. I need a break from thinking."

Big mistake.

That Afternoon

The front door swung open and Milo barged in like he owned the place.

"Yo!" he shouted. "Where’s the food? Where’s the trauma? Where’s your secret therapy journal?"

I t him at the bottom of the stairs. "Shut up, my dad’s upstairs."

He grinned. "Ah, yes. Corporate Dracula. Still alive?"

"Unfortunately."

Then ca the sound.

He turned toward the kitchen. "Wait. Who’s that?"

I felt the drop in my stomach imdiately.

Too late.

Elena walked out with a bowl of strawberries and a smile that could absolutely kill soone unprepared.

She paused. "Oh. Hello."

Milo stared.

His eyebrows did a full lift — the kind of face that scread, DUDE. WHO IS THAT.

"Hi," he said, recovering with a charming smile. "I’m Milo. You must be... the maid?"

My soul left my body.

Elena laughed. "Nope. I’m the stepmom."

"Oh."

He blinked.

Twice.

And then turned slowly to look at with the subtlety of a neon billboard.

What the actual hell, his face said.

I shoved him toward the living room. "We’ll be in my room!"

In My Room (Which Was Not Safe Either)

The door clicked shut and Milo imdiately threw his bag on the bed and spun around.

"Okay. Dude."

"What."

"What do you an ’stepmom’?! That woman is, like, barely thirty. She looks like she owns a skincare brand and yells at baristas with love."

"I know."

He grabbed both sides of his head like the knowledge was physically painful. "You’re living with her?! For the whole sumr?! In the sa house?!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"You’re lucky I didn’t pass out downstairs. I think I forgot how to blink for a full five seconds."

"I told you not to co over."

"You didn’t tell you were living in an erotic novel setup!"

I groaned and face-planted into a pillow.

Milo sat beside . "So? Tell everything. Are you okay? Are you secretly dying? Is she evil? Is she weird? Is she a stepford robot who cooks in heels?"

"She wears hoodies. And she’s... nice."

"Nice?"

I looked at him. "Too nice."

There was a beat of silence.

Milo squinted. "Wait. Are you catching feelings for your—"

"—No." I said quickly.

"Liar."

"Don’t."

"I will pull this story out of you like a splinter."

I sat up. "She’s married to my dad."

"That doesn’t answer my question."

"She’s married to my dad, Milo."

He crossed his arms. "And yet here you are, looking like soone who dreams about things he’s not supposed to."

I flinched.

That was... too accurate.

"Does she know?" he asked.

I hesitated. "Not really."

"That’s a yes."

"It’s a no."

"It’s a no that sounds like a yes."

"She hasn’t said anything."

"Has she looked at you?"

I glared at him. "Drop it."

He didn’t drop it.

Later That Day

Dad was out again — another eting, another Bluetooth mont. That left the three of us in the house: , Elena, and the human chaos engine I call my best friend.

And of course, Milo wouldn’t leave.

He kept hanging around the kitchen. Offering to help Elena with dishes. Asking "casual" questions that were absolutely not casual.

"So, how’d you two et?" he asked, drying a plate way too slowly.

Elena glanced at , then back at him. "At a real estate conference."

"Oooh. Corporate romance."

"Not exactly."

"And you and Aaron—"

I coughed. Loudly. "Milo."

"What? I’m just bonding with my honorary stepmom."

Elena smiled. But it was tight.

I grabbed him by the arm. "Co help in the garage."

"We don’t need—"

"The garage, Milo."

In the Garage

"What is wrong with you?" I hissed.

"I’m investigating."

"You’re annoying."

"She likes you."

"Shut up."

"She knows sothing’s there. You can see it in the way she looks at you like she’s trying not to imagine you shirtless."

I groaned into my hands. "Please leave."

He held up both hands. "Fine. I’ll go. But I’m just saying... whatever this is? You’re in deep."

"I know."

He paused.

Then, softer, "Are you okay?"

And that stopped .

I didn’t know how to answer.

"I don’t know," I said.

He patted my shoulder. "Be careful, man."

"I’m trying."

"Try harder."

That Night

Elena knocked on my door just after midnight.

I opened it half-asleep.

"Sorry," she whispered. "Didn’t an to wake you. Just wanted to say thanks for today."

"For what?"

"For covering when Milo got too curious. He’s fun. But wow."

I smiled a little. "He’s a nace."

Her eyes searched mine. "Are you okay?"

The sa question again. Different voice. Much harder to answer this ti.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Just... tired."

"Okay."

She hesitated.

Then, without thinking, she reached up and touched my face.

Just for a second.

"Goodnight, Aaron."

And she was gone again.

📘 End of Chapter 8

💬 YOUR TURN!

What do you think Elena really felt in that mont?

And is Milo going to stir more chaos — or is he the only one keeping Aaron grounded?

👇 Drop your predictions in the comnts!

💖 If you’re loving the slow-burn madness, hit that heart!

🔔 Follow to make sure you don’t miss whatever happens next (because it’s about to get worse... or better).

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