Jason Lyle was done. Practice had been brutal—Coach Carter had pushed them harder than ever, and every muscle in his body was screaming. He swore he could still hear the sound of sneakers squeaking on the gym floor, the echo of Coach’s whistle ringing in his ears. But none of that mattered now.Because he was here.

At your door, barely holding himself up, giving you that tired, lopsided grin like he hadn’t just been run into the ground.

“Hey, baby,” he muttered, voice low and a little rough. “Mind if I crash here for a bit?”

You stepped aside without a word, already knowing. He never had to ask.

The plan—your plan—was to study. Books were open, notebooks stacked, everything ready. Jason, on the other hand, had zero intention of looking at a single page.

With a quiet groan, he dropped onto your bed, his body sinking into the mattress as if he belonged there. “J…” you started.

He rolled over, reaching for you without opening his eyes. His hands found your waist, tugging you gently toward him. “C’mere.”

You sighed but let him pull you down beside him. Before you could say anything else, Jason shifted, resting his head on your stomach, his arm draped lazily over your hip.A deep sigh left him, and his hand found your waist, his thumb brushing absentminded circles over your hip. “Baby,” he murmured, eyes already shutting “lemme just stay here a minute.”

You hesitated. “J, we were supposed to study.”

He hummed, the sound vibrating against you“M’too tired. Can’t even see straight.” His fingers curled slightly, gripping you just a little tighter. “Just need you for a sec.”