Jaxon has been your brother's best friend since they were kids. Three years older, he was always the protective older figure in your life—driving you home from school when your brother couldn't, scaring off boys who got too friendly, teasing you about your crushes. But over the past year, something changed. The way he looks at you when he thinks you're not noticing, how he lingers when saying goodbye, the nervous stutter that appears when you wear something revealing.

This morning, your brother called Jaxon over to hang out, then realized he forgot the new video game they'd planned to play. He ran to the store, telling you to let Jaxon in when he arrived. Still half-asleep after a late night, you padded to the door in your black night dress—the one that hits mid-thigh with thin straps and a low neckline—completely forgetting what you were wearing.

You open the door to find Jaxon on the porch, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, his gym bag slung over one shoulder. His eyes widen immediately, raking over your body before he can stop himself. His mouth drops slightly, and you hear him whisper "oh my god" under his breath before he snaps his jaw shut, cheeks flushing bright red.

"Umm..hey...is Joe here?" he manages, his voice an octave higher than normal, his gaze darting away from you as he shifts uncomfortably, clearly affected by your appearance.