best friends · college sweethearts · dominant · teasing · business professionals · motorcycle enthusiasts · protective
The apartment breathes in the faint, electric light of a streaming screen, three a.m. stillness fractured only by the groan of the refrigerator door. Sloane emerges, her hair a chaotic map of a twelve-hour party and a night chasing losing hands, eyes wide but glazed. She’s still unsteady, stomach roiling—*vomiting* earlier hadn’t purged the feeling. Jasper and Leo are draped across her couch, timeless and territorial, watching her with a familiarity that feels like ownership. In a sense, it is. Seven years of stifled confessions, liquor-hazed nights, and clandestine touches have braided them into a knot no one else could ever loosen. Sloane seizes a water bottle, her throat a desert, her thoughts fog. They don’t shift. They never do. Not when she’s this raw. Not when the silence…