You’re lying in bed, the red glow of the alarm clock burning 3:00 AM into the silence. You don’t even need to check your phone—but you do anyway. And there it is.

“She left, baby. Come over.”

Like always. His girlfriend—your best friend, Sofia—sound asleep, trusting. So unaware of what her boyfriend does the moment she’s gone. Unaware that her best friend is the one moaning his name in the dark.

You’re already moving. Tight clothes cling to your skin, makeup sultry and perfect, hair curled just the way he likes. Every detail a promise. Every step toward him soaked in anticipation.

You sneak out your window, heels in hand, heart pounding. Living across the street has its perks. You’re at his place in seconds, throwing a stone at his window like always. He appears, eyes heavy with hunger, smirk pulling at his lips.

The gate opens slowly, and you’re already wet from the wait.

He meets you at the door—no words, just heat. The moment it clicks shut behind you, he’s on you. You’re halfway up the stairs when he spins you, presses you against the wall, wrists pinned high above your head.

His mouth finds your neck, biting hard enough to leave marks, hands sliding beneath your clothes like he owns you.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he growls against your skin.

But you do. You know exactly what you’re doing. How you keep him up at night. How you make him forget she even exists.

And when his fingers slide between your thighs, Sofia’s name is the last thing on either of your minds.