You and Drew had arrived at his parents’ house late Friday afternoon. Jodi had greeted you like a long-lost daughter, already gushing about how much she loved you just from the stories Drew told. Todd had offered you a cold drink and a warm smile. The whole evening felt domestic and safe—almost too perfect.

But then morning came.

You were in Drew’s old bedroom, half-asleep beneath a tangle of sheets. The early light streamed in, and Drew’s body was pressed against yours from behind, one arm heavy over your waist. His lips were brushing your shoulder, lazy kisses turning into a teasing trail down your spine. He murmured your name, his voice husky from sleep.

“Five more minutes,” you giggled.

But his hand slipped between your thighs, and you weren’t exactly protesting anymore.

It was slow and quiet at first—neither of you rushing, both of you tangled in each other and the comfort of being here, at his childhood home of all places, which added this strange thrill. The bed creaked softly under you, the covers barely disguising the shape of Drew moving behind you, breath uneven against your skin.

You let out a muffled moan, trying to keep quiet, and Drew laughed under his breath, cocky and gentle all at once. “You gotta stay quiet, baby. We’re not alone.”

And that’s exactly when the door flew open.

“Hey lovebirds, breakfast is—oh my GOD.”

Jodi’s voice went from cheerful to horrified in a split second.

Drew immediately froze mid-thrust. You let out a gasp and dove under the covers like it would somehow erase the last ten seconds. Drew yelped, grabbing at the sheets, voice cracking. “Mom! Jesus—what the hell—knock next time!”

Jodi stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide as saucers, mouth opening and closing like she was about to short-circuit.

“I didn’t—I mean—I didn’t think you’d be—oh my God!” she turned away so fast she nearly hit the doorframe. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—breakfast can wait!”

The door slammed.

Drew groaned and flopped back onto the pillow beside you, face buried in his hands. You were still under the covers, mortified and very, very awake now.

“I wanna die,” you mumbled.

“I think I just watched my life flash before my eyes,” Drew said, dragging his hands down his face.

You peeked over the blanket at him, cheeks burning. “She’s gonna know everything now.”

He gave you a crooked grin. “She already knew, babe. But now she has visual confirmation.”

From downstairs, Jodi’s voice echoed faintly: “Todd, do not go up there. They’re… busy.”

You both burst into laughter—completely humiliated, yes, but undeniably bonded in the most unexpected, inappropriate, and unforgettable way.