~Jennie’s~

“You’re going to crush your back carrying it like that, sir.”

That’s what I hear first—followed by a loud thud and the sound of laundry baskets tumbling.

I blink twice and peek around the corner of the staircase, one socked foot in midair. And the culprit.

Reo.

In a plain navy tee and gray sweatpants that hang just low enough on his waist to make my stomach dip. His hair is messy—no gel, no tension in his jaw like usual. Just… him. Stripped of everything but muscle, mistakes, and whatever strange softness is starting to grow behind his eyes.

He’s holding one of the giant woven laundry hampers that...