Aria woke up to sunlight stabbing directly into her eyes like a personal attack.
She groaned, rolling over and immediately regretting it when her head started pounding in time with her heartbeat.
Who let her have that last cocktail?
Oh right — Gwen.
A text notification buzzed on her phone.
Ethan: Alive or dead?
She squinted at the clock. 10:37 AM.
Crap.
Was she supposed to be at work?
Wait — no. Gwen had declared today an unofficial mental health day for the entire department after the Lawson incident.
God bless her chaotic soul.
Aria: Somewhere between corpse and regret. You?
His reply came instantly.
Ethan: Hungover. Possibly dying. Coffee?
She smiled despite the headache.
Aria: Only if you bring greasy food.
Ethan: On my way.
Twenty minutes later, her buzzer rang, and there he was at her door — hair a mess, sunglasses on, holding two giant coffees and a paper bag that smelled like heaven.
"You're a saint," she mumbled, grabbing the bag and practically inhaling the fries inside.
"Yeah, yeah. Say it louder."
She snorted, flopping onto her couch as he kicked his shoes off and joined her, handing over her iced coffee like a peace offering.
They sat in comfortable silence, both looking like death, both weirdly content.
After a while, Ethan broke the quiet.
"So, uh… about last night."
Aria winced. "If you're about to say it was a mistake, I might hurl."
He laughed, nudging her foot with his. "Relax. I was gonna say it was the best terrible decision I've ever made."
She smirked. "Same."
Another pause. Not awkward this time. Just… loaded.
"So," Ethan continued, leaning his head back against the couch. "Since we're apparently in this messy, emotionally complicated thing now — I was thinking."
"Oh god," she teased. "Do I need to be scared?"
"Probably. But I figured we never actually had a real date. You know, one where neither of us is pretending to hate each other or trying to catch a corporate spy."
Aria grinned. "Bold of you to assume I'm not still pretending."
He chuckled. "Fair. But humor me. Friday. Dinner. No lies, no dares, no stupid bets. Just… us."
Her heart did that annoying skip again.
"You asking me out, Cole?"
"Damn right I am."
She pretended to consider it, taking a dramatic sip of her coffee.
"Fine," she said. "But if you wear that smug smirk the whole time, I swear I'll throw my drink at you."
"It wouldn't be a proper date if you didn't."
They grinned at each other like idiots, the kind of grin that said yeah, this was inevitable from day one.
Somehow, against all odds — they'd gone from enemies, to reluctant allies, to fake daters, to… whatever this beautiful, chaotic, disaster of a thing was now.
And honestly?
Neither of them would change a thing...