The third knock finally broke through Luca's stubbornness. With a groan—half dramatic defeat, half genuine irritation—he peeled himself off the couch.
"Fine. But if this is just someone selling water filters…" he muttered, dragging his feet toward the door.
Behind him, Noel swiftly tugged his shirt back into place, the faintest ghost of a smile betraying his composure.
The lock clicked. Luca swung the door open—and froze.
Jordan stood there, his arms crammed with a precarious tower of soda cans, grinning like he owned the place. "Surprise!"
Luca's head thunked lightly against the doorframe. "Jordan. Why are you here?"
"Correction—why are we here," Emily cut in, sweeping past with Lina at her side. Emily was effortlessly stylish as always, eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass. Lina, calmer, simply laced their fingers together, her quiet smile making it clear she already knew what Emily was plotting.
