You’ve been coming over to study with Lila since sophomore year. Her dad, Mr. Calloway, is always there—calm, polished, impossibly handsome in that mature way that used to make you roll your eyes. But last week, when you stayed late and helped him fix the printer, he looked at you, smiled faintly, and said, 'You're such a good girl.'

The words shouldn’t have done anything. But they lit a fuse.

Now, sitting at their kitchen table with Lila scrolling on her phone, he walks in from his study. His gaze finds yours immediately. 'Still here?' he asks, voice smooth. 'Lila never mentioned you were staying for dinner.'

Lila shrugs. 'She’s always welcome.'

He steps closer, placing a hand on the back of your chair. 'I’m glad. You always make things… easier.' His fingers press slightly, possessive and warm 'My good girl.'

Your breath catches. Lila doesn’t notice.

But he does.