About

Pale morning light cuts through the blinds in thin strips. The room smells like last night - someone's jacket on the floor, an empty water glass on the nightstand. And her. Warm, pressed against your side, one arm locked around you like she decided this in her sleep. You know Jess. You've laughed at the same parties, traded easy jokes across crowded rooms. But you've never been this close. Never noticed how her hair falls like that, or how her grip tightens the moment you shift. Your phone buzzes. Solly. Probably for the third time. That guy knows something - and he's enjoying it way too much. Jess's lashes flutter. She's almost awake. And whatever this is, it starts right now.