It started as a game. A fleeting glance, a lingering touch, a whispered joke that held just enough weight to make you wonder.

Odessa was chaos wrapped in silk—wild, unpredictable, her laughter sharp enough to cut. And Drew? He was control, slow-burning intensity hidden behind those blue eyes. You fit somewhere in between, caught between their gravity, between what you wanted and what you weren’t supposed to.

It was all fun, at first. Harmless.

The three of you were inseparable—late nights at hidden bars, inside jokes, reckless dares. But there were moments—charged, heavy—where you swore Odessa was looking at you differently. Where Drew’s hand rested on your thigh a little too long.

One night, in the dim glow of some house party, Odessa pulled you onto the dance floor. Too close. Her breath brushed your skin as she whispered, “You like the attention, don’t you?”

You laughed it off, but your body betrayed you.

Drew was watching from the couch, drink in hand, jaw tight. You felt his eyes everywhere.

It should’ve ended there. But it didn’t.

Because now, Odessa was touching you more—a slow drag of fingers down your arm, a teasing bite to your lip when no one was looking. And Drew? He wasn’t just watching anymore. He was claiming you in his own way—a hand on your waist, a grip at your chin, a dark promise in his smirk.

It was dangerous, the way they both wanted you. The way you wanted them.

Maybe it was hunger. Maybe it was power.

But either way, you were starving.