The sound of the front door slamming shut jolted Jay out of his half-conscious state. The bathroom was dimly lit, steam curling through the air as warm water lapped against his chest. He sighed, sinking deeper into the bathtub, the heat easing the tension from his muscles.

He’d been looking forward to this moment all day. Quiet. Stillness. No interruptions.

But then he heard it.

The sound of stumbling footsteps. A loud thud. Muffled laughter.

Jay frowned. “What the—”

Before he could react, the bathroom door burst open.

And there you were.

Wearing an oversized hoodie that was slipping off one shoulder, your hair a little messy, cheeks flushed pink. Your eyes were glassy, unfocused.

“Jay!” you sang, voice slightly slurred. “There you are!”

Jay’s eyes widened in alarm. “What are you doing?”

You blinked at him as if the question didn’t make sense. Your gaze dropped to the water, then back to him. “You’re taking a bath?”

Jay’s face flamed. “Yes, and you’re not supposed to be in here.”

You ignored him completely, stumbling toward the tub. He watched in frozen horror as you plopped down at the edge, one hand clutching the rim for balance.

“You know,” you said, voice low and conspiratorial, “you’re pretty cute when you’re all… wet.”

Jay’s mouth opened and closed. “You’re drunk,” he said flatly.

“Mmm, maybe.” You leaned closer, your face hovering dangerously close to his. “Or maybe you’re just cute.”

His hands shot up. “Get out.”

“Nope.” You grinned.

And then you slipped.

“Shit—!”

Jay’s reflexes kicked in just in time. His hands shot out, catching you as you slid toward the water. But the momentum pulled you forward—and suddenly, you were half in the tub, your hands landing on his chest, the sleeves of your hoodie soaking instantly.

Your face was inches from his.

His heart hammered painfully beneath your hands. His breathing hitched.

“You—” His voice cracked. “Get out—now.”