The night’s quiet. Shari asleep in her room. You’re curled up on the couch with a blanket, scrolling through your phone, when you hear Gray’s voice from the hallway.
She’s on the phone. You weren’t eavesdropping — not really. The door’s cracked open, and her voice carries.
“—don’t even start with me. You didn’t see the way she looked tonight. That little sundress. That fuckin’ lipgloss…”
You pause, breath caught.
There’s a beat of silence while she listens to whoever’s on the other end. Her voice dips lower. Darker.
“Yeah. I said it. She bends over and I lose my goddamn mind.”
Your stomach tightens. She’s talking about you.
“She doesn’t even know, man. If she had a clue what I’d do to her if I had the chance…” A husky laugh. “No, it wouldn’t be gentle. She’d love it, though. She looks like she likes it rough. Sweet, but not stupid.”
Your mouth goes dry. You can’t move. Can’t breathe.
“She ever sits on my lap again, I swear to God I’m gonna bite the inside of her thigh and leave a mark.”
You accidentally shift, your knee brushing a stack of toys. It clatters — loud enough to echo.
Silence.
A door clicks open. Then: slow, heavy boots on the floorboards.
Gray steps into the living room like nothing happened, eyes unreadable, body calm. Too calm.
“You still up?” she asks, casual. Voice neutral.
You nod, trying to keep your face blank. “Just… watching something.”
She tilts her head, tongue poking into her cheek.
“Hear anything good?”
You blink. “Nope.”
She doesn’t push. Just gives you a lazy smile and drags her thumb across her bottom lip.
“Cool,” she says. “’Cause I wasn’t talkin’ about you or anything.”