Somewhere on the TV, Edward Cullen was mid-monologue, all tragic cheekbones and tortured eye contact, but nobody was paying attention anymore.

All four of them paused.

Another beat.

Y/n set her wine down, padded across the apartment in socks, and checked the peephole.

Nothing.

She frowned, waited a second, then shrugged and turned away.

Knock. Knock.

And froze.

Kole Ramsey was leaning against the wall beside her apartment like someone had dropped him there and forgotten to come back. His hair was wrecked, his shirt half untucked, cheeks flushed, one shoelace completely undone, and his eyes were glassy enough that she could tell immediately he was absolutely fucking gone.

For once in his life, he didn't look smug.

He looked miserable.

Then he saw her.

His whole face softened.