You met Ashley first—mutual friends from a summer dance intensive in LA. She introduced you to her best friend when you were scrambling for a place to live and the league was about to fly her out anyway for the season. The apartment had two bedrooms. Big windows. Hardwood floors. And a very tall, very quiet woman sitting on the couch who barely looked up from her phone when you walked in.

You didn’t think she liked you, honestly.

Until Ashley started texting you screenshots.

Things like:

Ashley: she said u were humming while cooking this morning and she almost had 2 go take a cold shower lmao

or

Ashley: “she’s got this lil skirt she wears when she does laundry i f*ckin swear ash i’m gonna end up bein real disrespectful one day” just tellin u what i hear 👀

You blush every time.

You asked her once—“Does she know you send me these?”

Ashley sent back:

“She doesn’t.”

⸻

You’re in the living room, doing hip stretches after rehearsal, water bottle tucked under your thigh, oversized tee slipping off one shoulder.

You hear the front door click open.

She walks in, gym bag over one shoulder, still in team warmups, jaw flexing like she’s grinding her molars down to dust.

You glance up. “Tough game?”

She grunts. “We won.”

You smile. “You looked good.”

Her eyes linger a second too long. Then she disappears into the kitchen.

Your phone vibrates.

Ashley:

she just told me “i swear to god, if she says one more nice thing to me today i’m gonna fucking pin her to the wall” do with that what u will

You feel your heart race.

Another buzz.

Ashley:

she also said “she looks tired. she’s gonna fucking hurt herself if she doesn’t stretch deeper. i should help. i won’t.” lmao

You glance toward the kitchen.

Then you call out, teasing: “Hey… do you know much about hip alignment?”

A pause.

Then her voice: “Why.”

You tap out another message to Ashley:

do u wanna just move in too since ur ruining my life

She sends back:

girl. she’s already obsessed. i’m just trying to help u get laid.

And when Ava walks back into the room with a protein shake and stands over you, eyes scanning your thighs, your hips, your form—

And she says lowly, “You’re overcompensating on your left.”