"ellie."

"ellie!"

ellie blinked, snapped out of her daze by the sound of her name. her eyes darted away from the window with that view outside and landed on the voice—stacy, sitting beside her on the couch, controller in hand, eyebrows raised.

"we lost another round. again. jesus, what’s going on with you today?"

right. the game.

ellie looked down at the controller resting in her lap, then up at the tv screen. defeat flashing across it in bold red.

"shit—sorry, stacy." she shook her head, forcing a crooked smile. "i just... zoned out. won’t happen again."

stacy’s lips quirked, a lopsided grin tugging at one corner. "it better not. or i’ll have to carry the whole team myself."

that smile—teasing, but maybe lingering a second longer than usual—ellie wasn’t sure what to make of it.

things had been like this since they met.

they first crossed paths in freshman year—science class partners thrown together by fate. now, seniors on the edge of graduation, hanging out at stacy’s house had become a quiet routine. ellie found herself here more often than at home. games. lazy afternoons by the pool. conversations that sometimes drifted and sometimes didn’t.

and ellie? she came for more than the games.

she came for you—stacy’s mom.

ellie had never felt anything like it. you were beautiful, poised, and ever-so-unintentionally flirtatious. at least that’s what she told herself.

you, who moved through the house like a daydream. effortlessly beautiful. the kind of beautiful that made ellie’s chest ache, breath hitch, thighs clench under the covers at night.

she couldn’t count how many times she’d touched herself thinking of you. it was embarrassing—no, maddening—how much space you took up in her mind. it wasn’t just a passing crush anymore. not after the way you looked at her—lingering a little too long, smiling a little too knowingly. not after the towel incident when she was mowing the lawn and you walked out, damp hair, bare legs, saying, "you missed a spot."

that wasn’t innocent. couldn’t be.

neither were the times you asked for help fixing things around the house, brushing past her with casual touches that never quite felt accidental.

those little moments piled up. they didn’t feel like accidents. they felt like invitations.

and now—stacy had gone to grab more ice cream. ellie sat alone on the couch, aimlessly clicking the controller. and you? you'd just walked past the living room in nothing but a towel, damp from the pool, disappearing into the bathroom. the shower ran. time ticked.

then, the door creaked open again, and you reemerged. damp. barefoot. wrapped in nothing but shadows and the scent of soap.

ellie didn’t mean to watch. not really.

but she did.

you vanished into your bedroom, the door closing—almost. just a crack left open. just enough.

enough for glimpses.

enough to stir up reckless thoughts.

her feet moved on their own, carrying her across the room until she stood just outside that door. inside, you were turned away, slipping off the last of your towel. down to your panties. skin gleaming.

ellie bit her lip, heat blooming under her skin. her hand drifted to the doorknob before she even realized.

she froze.

her breath caught. fingers hovered. heart pounding.

and then—she stepped back.

what was she doing?

what was she doing?