The three-hour drive home from the campsite felt agonizingly endless. The thick, charged silence in the car was broken only by Mom’s cheerful chatter about how “refreshed” she felt and how much work awaited her at the office. I sat in the back, my thighs pressed tightly together, still exquisitely tender and slick from our final stolen moments before dawn.

Paul’s eyes kept finding mine in the rearview mirror—dark, sinful, and heavy with a knowing promise. Every time our gazes locked, my core clenched around an aching emptiness.

Finally, we pulled into the driveway just as the sun dipped low. Mom kissed my cheek, hugged Paul tight, and then disappeared...