My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, and I instinctively tried to sit up straighter.
"I'm back, Clara!" Jake's voice sounded unusually cheerful. "Guess who I met in the m—"
He stopped mid sentence as he kicked off his shoes and lifted his head. His eyes landed straight on Oliver, who was still comfortably draped over the couch with his arm around me.
"Jake! You're back," I said, trying to sound casual as I pointed to the coffee table. "Oliver brought nachos. We have salsa in the fridge, right?"
Jake grunted, lugging the heavy bags toward the kitchen. "Yeah, check the door. And man, I just saw that famous gaming YouTuber in the snack aisle. It was actually pretty cool."
But his temporary good mood didn't stop him from glaring at Oliver's hand on my side.
"Do you two have to be glued together? It's a large couch, Oliver. Give her some air."
Oliver didn't budge. Instead, he flashed that cheeky, winning smile of his.
"Is that your way of welcoming me, Jake? I'm touched. Thanks."
He didn't even flinch at Jake's tone. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, like it was all part of an amusing game.
"Besides," Oliver added, giving my side a gentle squeeze, which I was 100% sure Jake noticed. "She's not complaining, are you, Clara?"
His gaze flickered down to me for a fraction of a second, a silent, mischievous question in his eyes, before he looked back at Jake. He was deliberately pushing Jake's buttons, and he was loving every second of it.
"So," Oliver continued, changing the subject with a grin. "Are you gonna share what's in those bags, or is it all for you? I saw a six pack of energy drinks in there. That stuff's gonna rot your brain, Jake."
He leaned back into the cushions, pulling me slightly with him and making it clear he had no intention of moving an inch.
"Shut up and just help me with the soda," Jake barked from the kitchen.
I shifted just enough to put a sliver of space between me and Oliver, though I kept my voice light.
"Jake, be nice. He's our guest," I said, then turned to Oliver with a warning look. "And Oliver, you know how he gets. Don't tease him."
Seriously, why are men so childish? I guess the summer heat was making them even more restless than usual.
Oliver gave me a wink before getting up. He walked toward the kitchen to help Jake, and together they prepared the snacks. Between the two of them, the coffee table was soon covered with popcorn, nachos, salsa, and soda.
They sat back down, one on each side of me, like two large bodyguards. It was a bit cramped, but with the air conditioner humming and the smell of salty snacks filling the room, it felt like the perfect summer afternoon.
"Good boys," I teased, finally hitting 'Play' on the remote. "Now don't argue and just watch the movie."
Oliver settled back onto the couch, much closer than he needed to be. He grabbed a handful of popcorn, popping one into his mouth before resting his arm along the back of the sofa, his fingers barely brushing my shoulder.
"Don't worry, I'll be on my best behavior," Oliver murmured, his voice a low tease meant only for me.
But the second the opening credits finished, I felt his hand slide down from my shoulder. His thumb began to draw slow, lazy circles on my collarbone. It was a subtle, possessive gesture, hidden from a direct line of sight, but just obvious enough for Jake to catch the movement.
Jake let out an exasperated sigh and flung a pillow at Oliver's head. "For crying out loud, Oliver! This is a movie night, not a cuddle hotel."
The pillow bounced off Oliver's shoulder. He finally turned his head, a slow, lazy smirk playing on his lips. "Someone's grumpy today. Did you not get enough snacks, Jake?"
Jake just scoffed, crossing his arms and turning his full attention back to the TV, though his jaw remained tight. "Whatever, man. Just watch the stupid movie."
Oliver's attention returned to me. He leaned in even closer, his breath warm against my ear. "I can't help myself," he whispered, his voice vibrating through me.
Under the small blanket, he found my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine, squeezing gently. While his other hand casually reached for more popcorn, his thumb continued its rhythmic circles against my skin, making it impossible for me to focus on a single word of the movie.
I squeezed his hand back and leaned in to whisper, "Be a good boy, and you'll get a reward later."
A wicked grin spread across his face, but to my surprise, he actually behaved. He kept his fingers still, though the heat of his hand never left mine until the credits finally rolled.
Jake stood up, rubbing the back of his neck. "That movie was kind of mid," he muttered, but I didn't miss the slight redness in his eyes. Clearly, the ending had hit him harder than he wanted to admit.
"Anyway, I'm gonna hit the gym and burn this off," Jake said, grabbing his gym bag. He shot a final, warning glare at Oliver. "Oliver. Behave yourself. I mean it."
"Don't worry, Jake. I'm a saint," Oliver said, waving him off without looking up.
The second the front door clicked shut, I caged him against the cushions, sliding onto his lap and planting one hand firmly beside his head. He was trapped, caught between me and the couch. My other hand came up to trace the sharp line of his jaw, my thumb stroking his skin just below his lower lip.
"Should I give my good boy his reward now?" I whispered, my voice laced with amusement and a sudden flash of raw desire. I could see the exact moment his confident smirk faltered—his breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly as I took control. He let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against mine.
"You know..." he rasped, his voice strained as he fought for control. "I promised your brother I'd be a saint today. I'm trying really hard not to disappoint him."
He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his gaze dark and heavy. "But you're making it impossible for me to keep that promise, Clara."
A thrill shot through me at his words, a delicious heat spreading in my chest. I grinned at him playfully, leaning in even closer. He didn't move to stop me. Instead, he closed his eyes as I finally pressed my lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss that promised so much more.
I pulled back just an inch, my lips still brushing his as I breathed out, "So... how's it feel, breaking a promise?"
He chuckled, a low, vibration in his chest. "Damn... it was more than worth it." He slowly brushed his lower lip with his tongue, his gaze darkening as he looked at me. "Honestly, I only planned to tease you while we watched the movie, but I guess I should do whatever my princess wants, right?"
Without warning, he scooped me up into his arms, lifting me effortlessly from the couch. "Shall we head to your room, princess?"
I giggled, my legs kicking playfully in the air. "Clara, stop moving unless you want me to drop you," he teased, though his grip on me was rock solid.
I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck and settled down, becoming the 'good girl' he wanted. As he started up the stairs, I could feel the intense heat radiating from his body through his shirt. Each step he took felt deliberate, his heart thudding steadily against my chest.
He kicked the bedroom door shut and laid me gently on the bed, hovering over me before I could even catch my breath. He brushed a stray hair from my face, his eyes burning with a fire I'd never seen before. He captured my wrists, pinning them lightly above my head as he leaned down to whisper against my ear.
"They say good boys and good girls go to heaven..."
His voice was a low, gravelly rasp that sent a fresh wave of heat through me. "So, wanna see if that's true, Clara?"
"... Yes," I answered, refusing to break eye contact.