For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at her curled up on the couch.

The thought crossed my mind to wake her, maybe offer the bed and take the couch myself. It would've been the polite thing to do. The right thing.

But then another thought crept in, quieter but stronger. That this — her already asleep, her breathing slow and even — might be the safest version of tonight I was going to get.

So I left her there.

I switched off the light in the living room, letting the glow from the hallway spill across the couch, across her. Her hair had fallen loose over her face, soft waves against her cheek, her hand tucked under a cushion like she belonged there. I didn't dare move closer. Didn't dare look longer than a few seconds.

I turned away.

The shower was supposed to calm me down. It didn't. The cold water hit my skin and all it did was make my thoughts sharper,.clearer in the worst ways. I shouldn't have let her in. Should've called someone, anyone. But it was late, she was drunk, and I couldn't bring myself to turn her away like that.

I leaned against the wall, water dripping down my face, and wondered how things ended up here.

If Val had called that night — if her name had flashed across my screen the way it usually did — maybe she would've noticed something in my voice.

She always did.

Val had this uncanny way of reading me like an open page, even through the phone. Just one "Hey, are you okay?" and I would've folded.

But she didn't call.

And, if I'm being honest, part of me was grateful she didn't. Because I didn't know what I would've said if she did.

I went to my room, shut the door, and tried to convince myself I could actually sleep.

Morning came too soon and it wasn't sunlight that woke me, it was a strange sense of wrongness. The kind that creeps in before your mind fully catches up.

There was someone breathing on the other side of the bed.

My first, instinctive thought was Val. The way she used to curl up close, her hand brushing mine as she shifted in her sleep. For half a second, I even turned with a sleepy smile tugging at my mouth.

But then memory crashed in.

Val wasn't here. She was in London. When my eyes finally opened, it indeed wasn't her.

It was Avery.

Lying right there, in my bed.

Her face was turned toward me, lashes resting softly against her cheeks. The morning light spilling through the window made her hair glint in shades of gold, and she looked, well... peaceful. Completely unaware of the quiet chaos unraveling beside her.

For a second, my brain refused to process it.

Then everything hit at once.

The couch. The blanket. The door I know I closed last night.

And now... this.

My pulse picked up. I sat up slowly, careful not to wake her, though every part of me screamed to just move. Get out. Do... something.

She shouldn't be here.

This shouldn't be happening.

And yet, somehow, it was.

Avery was asleep in my bed.

Val was thousands of miles away.

And I — the guy who prided himself on having everything under control — had no idea what to do next.

---

I swung my legs off the bed and stood there, trying to piece together how it even made sense. She'd been out cold. There's no way she walked here half-asleep.

Maybe she woke up sometime after I fell asleep. Maybe she got cold. Maybe she just—

I stopped.

None of it mattered. Not right now.

All I knew was that I needed to figure out how to handle this before she woke up.

That's when I heard her voice.

Soft, tired, cracked at the edges.

] "Kai…"

I froze. My head turned on instinct.

She was awake, sort of. Still half-lost between sleep and consciousness, her voice was low enough.

"Hey… uh," I cleared my throat, forcing the words out. "Morning, Avery."

She pushed herself up slowly, her movements lazy and heavy like someone swimming through fog. Her fingers brushed across her face, trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes. Strands of hair stuck to her cheek, and when she finally blinked them away, she looked up at me.

Even half-awake, she looked… different, not in a calculated, deliberate way, but in a softer, almost disarming way.

There was something about her vulnerability that made her even more impossible to look at. Sleepy eyes, the faintest curve of a smile that wasn't quite there yet. She looked cute. Beautiful, even. And dangerous, definitely dangerous.

I turned my face away quickly, exhaling like I could force reason back into my system.

She didn't seem to notice. Maybe she wasn't fully awake yet. Her voice came again, quieter this time, like she was trying not to break the calm around us.

] "Where're you going?"

"To take my bath," I said. Too fast. It sounded more like a defense than a reply.

She nodded, yawning softly, then murmured, "Okay."

I left before she could say anything else.

The cold shower helped. Or maybe it didn't. My head was still buzzing, thoughts overlapping like bad radio static. She was drunk last night, and whatever happened — or didn't — wasn't something I wanted to linger on. I just needed to get her home before she said or did something that made things worse.

When she finally went in for her bath, the house went quiet again. The kind of quiet that made every sound louder than it should.

I sank back on the bed, rubbing the back of my neck, half-expecting to hear her voice call my name again. But all that came was the sound of running water, soft and distant, like a reminder that she was still here.

Good.

That gave me a few minutes to think.

I grabbed my phone and walked to the living room, sinking into the couch as I typed a quick message.

Bro, can you come over? It's an emergency.

It didn't take Trent long to reply.

Don't tell me your team leader came for another visit this early on a Saturday morning 😒

I sighed through my nose, typing back quickly.

No. It's Avery.

There was a pause. Long enough for me to imagine his face — the raised brows, the slow grin that always came before something stupid.

She's at your place?? So early??

I hesitated, my thumbs hovering for a second before sending,

She kinda spent the night. Long story, I'll fill you in later.

The dots appeared almost instantly. I could already feel the judgment through the screen.

Bro 😭 Val's gonna kill you if she finds out.

I dragged a hand down my face, leaning back against the couch.

Yeah. I know.

But right now, I need your help. When can you be here?

A few seconds later—

Sorry bud, I'm actually at Mount Keira. Marina made us come up here for her cousin's pre-Christmas thing. Been here since Tuesday.

Of course. Perfect timing.

Guess you're on your own for this one.

I exhaled, typing slowly this time.

Yeah. I'll just think of something else.

A final bubble popped up, exactly what I expected.

I'll be rooting for you 😈

I couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, not because it was funny, but because it was so Trent. Still, that didn't make me feel any better.

Dropping my phone on the couch, I exhaled and rubbed the back of my neck.

"Think of something else," I muttered.

Easier said than done.

The door from the hallway opened then, quiet but noticeable enough to pull me out of my thoughts.

I looked up and froze.

Avery stood at the doorway, barefoot, her hair still damp from the shower. She wasn't wearing her clothes from last night. Instead, she had on one of my shirts — white, oversized, the sleeves brushing past her elbows, the hem barely reaching her thighs.

She tugged at the collar a little, her eyes landing on me.

"How old I look?" she asked.

The question was innocent enough.

But in that moment — standing there, dressed in my shirt, sunlight spilling through the window behind her — it felt like everything about it was wrong in so many ways.

And I didn't even have an answer.

---

To be continued...

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