Morning came gray and quiet.

I woke up in Marcus’s bed with his arm locked around my waist and the dull, sweet ache of him still between my thighs. For one suspended second I let myself believe we could stay like this. Then the sound of movement downstairs reminded me that Ethan was still in the house.

Marcus’s voice was rough with sleep. “He’s up.”

“I know.”

He kissed the back of my neck once, slow, then sat up. “We do it now. No more waiting.”

I nodded, heart already hammering.

We dressed in silence. Me in yesterday’s clothes. Him in a clean shirt like it was any other morning....