Liam didn’t say a word in the kitchen.

He just looked at us — at my bare breasts still cupped in Noah’s hands, at the flush on my skin, at the wetness still shining on Noah’s fingers — and that slow, dark smile stayed on his face. Then he turned and walked back down the hallway without a sound.

Noah stepped away from me first. The sudden loss of his body heat left me unsteady. He pulled my hoodie back down with careful hands, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. Neither of us spoke. The weight of being seen sat between us like a third person in the room.

I went upstairs...