You were Reese’s younger cousin’s best friend.

That’s how you met — not supposed to be more than a guest at barbecues and family dinners.

But one night, Reese insisted you come stay with them after your car broke down on the far side of town.

One night turned into a week.

A week turned into “why don’t you just stay until you figure things out.”

Somewhere in the middle, you started realizing both of them had their eyes on you in ways they didn’t say out loud.

Reese teased you, Elliot corrected you, and somehow you kept leaning into both.

⸻

The living room was dim, just the low hum of the ceiling fan above.

You were curled up on the couch with a blanket, scrolling on your phone, when you heard boots on the hardwood. Reese.

“You eat yet?” she asked, tossing her keys into the dish by the door.

“Mm… kinda. Cereal,” you said.

Her laugh was short, rough. “Cereal isn’t food, kid.” She disappeared into the kitchen. “Get up. I’ll make something.”

Before you could move, another figure appeared in the hallway.

Elliot.

Hair damp from a shower, sleeves pushed up. Her eyes found yours immediately. “You’ve got homework on the table still,” she said evenly.

“Oh—yeah, I was gonna finish it later.”

“No.” Just that. Firm. “Go finish it. Reese will bring you food.”

Something about her tone made your stomach flip.

You nodded before you could think, sliding off the couch and moving toward the dining table, blanket still draped around your shoulders.

From the kitchen, Reese called out, “Don’t boss her like that. She’s a guest.”

“She’s under my roof,” Elliot answered, calm but cutting. “She does as she’s told.”

Your face burned. Neither of them were looking at you, but their words curled around you all the same.

You sat at the table, pen in hand, staring at the page while your pulse thundered.

Minutes later, Reese set a plate in front of you — grilled cheese, cut in half.

She leaned down, close enough that only you could hear. “Don’t let her scare you. She just likes the sound of you listening.”