JAY POV — MORNING AFTER
I woke up slowly.
Not because the sun was gentle, or because the room was quiet—but because I was wrapped in warmth.
Real warmth.
Arms around me. A steady breath at the back of my neck. A solid presence pressed close enough that my body knew, before my mind caught up, that I wasn't alone.
Keifer.
The sheets were a mess—twisted, tangled, half on the floor like they'd lost the fight sometime during the night. My leg was draped over his hip, my cheek pressed against his chest, my fingers curled into fabric I didn't remember putting on.
I didn't move right away.
I let myself stay there.
Let myself feel the way his arm tightened reflexively when I shifted even slightly, like his body had memorized mine overnight. Let myself register the quiet—no alarms, no phones, no world demanding anything from me.
Just this.
Then I tried to move my leg.
Bad idea.
I hissed quietly.
Keifer stirred instantly.
"Morning," he murmured, voice still low and rough with sleep. His hand slid comfortingly along my back, thumb tracing slow circles. "You okay?"
I lifted my head just enough to glare at him.
"You," I said, accusingly, "are entirely to blame."
He cracked one eye open. Then the other.
A slow, unapologetic smirk spread across his face.
"I regret nothing," he said.
I tried to kick him lightly. My leg protested.
He chuckled, deep and pleased, and tightened his hold, pulling me closer like he was shielding me from my own complaints.
"Hey," he said softly now, forehead pressing to my hair. "Easy."
I sighed, the heat of embarrassment catching up to me all at once. "You're impossible."
"You stayed," he replied.
That shut me up.
He kissed my temple—gentle, unhurried—and then shifted carefully, moving us so I was cradled more comfortably against him. The way he did it told me he remembered every moment, every boundary, every breath.
I felt my face warm anyway.
"I'm going to get up," he said after a moment. "Before you start plotting my murder."
"I'm already plotting," I muttered.
He laughed and slid out of bed, completely unbothered, while I very pointedly stared at the ceiling and tried not to combust from awareness.
A moment later, I heard water running.
Steam fogged the doorway.
"Come on," he called. "You'll feel better."
I hesitated.
Then wrapped the sheet around myself and followed.
---
The bathroom was warm, sunlight filtering in through frosted glass. The tub was already filling, steam curling lazily into the air.
Keifer turned, took one look at me clutching the sheet like a shield, and softened instantly.
"Hey," he said, holding out his hand. "I've got you."
I took it.
The bath was quiet. Calm. Nothing rushed. Just warmth and shared space and that strange, grounding intimacy of sitting knee to knee, shoulders brushing, breathing in sync.
He washed my hair carefully, like it mattered. Like I mattered.
When we finally emerged, wrapped in towels and calm, I noticed my dress from last night discarded on the floor.
Instead, I reached for one of his hoodies.
It swallowed me whole.
Long enough to be decent. Soft enough to smell like him.
By the time I went downstairs, he was already there—shirt sleeves rolled, hair still damp, focused on the stove like this was the most normal thing in the world.
I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist.
He froze for half a second.
Then relaxed completely.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," I replied, pressing my cheek between his shoulder blades.
He turned just enough to kiss the top of my head.
Breakfast smelled incredible. I leaned against the counter, watching him move—comfortable, domestic, real—and something warm settled deep in my chest.
This wasn't fantasy.
This was choice.
He lifted me effortlessly and set me on the table, kissing me softly—slow, lingering, affectionate.
Then—
"KUYA?"
A shriek.
We both froze.
Two familiar figures stood in the doorway, eyes wide, bags still slung over their shoulders.
Keigan blinked.
Keiren's jaw dropped.
"Oh," Keigan said slowly. "So that's what's been happening."
I buried my face in Keifer's chest instantly.
He sighed like a man accepting his fate.
"Good morning to you too," he muttered.
Keiren grinned. "You look… happy."
Keigan snorted. "You look wrecked."
I peeked out just long enough to flip them off, then disappeared again.
They laughed.
Hard.
Relentless.
I escaped five minutes later, stealing Keifer's car keys on my way out.
"I'll be back," I called.
"Jay—" he started.
Too late.
Celeste nearly choked on her coffee when I walked into the villa.
She stared.
Once.
Twice.
Then slowly lowered her mug.
"Oh," she said. "Wow."
I tugged the hoodie down instinctively.
"Don't," she warned. "You'll ruin the effect."
"What effect?"
"The 'I absolutely got laid and I'm not sorry' one."
I flipped her off and bolted upstairs, laughing.
I locked the door behind me and leaned back against it.
Then I caught my reflection.
Oh.
Oh no.
I stepped closer to the mirror slowly, like maybe if I moved carefully enough the evidence would disappear on its own.
It did not.
My neck.
My collarbone.
The faint shadow just above my chest, barely hidden by the hoodie's loose neckline.
Hickeys.
Not subtle ones either. The kind that looked intentional. The kind that told a story I absolutely did not remember consenting to advertise.
I groaned and dropped my forehead against the mirror.
"I swear to God," I muttered, staring at my own reflection, "I'm going to kill him."
My reflection looked smug about it.
I straightened, tugging the hoodie aside experimentally. Worse idea. Definitely worse.
There were marks lower down too—fading, but unmistakable.
Heat crawled up my face, part embarrassment, part… something warmer I wasn't going to name out loud.
I cursed him again, this time with feeling.
Then sighed.
Because if I was being honest?
I didn't regret a single one.
The villa was quiet—too quiet. No voices drifting from the hall, no music, no chaos bleeding through the walls. I checked my phone.
Nothing.
Typical.
I flopped onto my bed and typed quickly.
Jay:
not coming back for dinner
with section e + keifer
The replies came almost immediately.
Cole:
okayy Jay,be safe
Celeste:
LMAO
AND AT LEAST COME HOME TONIGHT
Celeste:
Jay.do NOT disappear again.
I smiled despite myself.
Jay:
i'll try
no promises
Celeste and Cole:
you're impossible
I tossed my phone aside and stared at the ceiling for a moment, letting the weight of the day settle.
Then I got up.
If I was going out, I was doing it properly.
Black pants—clean lines, fitted just enough to feel confident without trying too hard. Velvet top, dark and soft, catching the light when I moved. I pulled my hair back loosely, just enough to show my neck.
After a pause—
I left the marks visible.
If anyone noticed, that was their problem.
The restaurant buzzed with noise when I arrived—warm lights, clinking glasses, laughter already spilling over from a corner booth.
Section E.
Of course.
I hadn't even taken three steps inside before Felix spotted me.
His eyes widened.
Then he grinned like he'd just won something.
"Oh my God," he said loudly. "She's glowing."
Cin leaned forward, squinting. "Is that—"
"Nope," I cut in, sliding into the seat beside Keifer before anyone could finish that sentence.
Too late.
Yuri raised an eyebrow slowly. "You look… different."
Keifer didn't say anything.
He just looked at me.
Not hungry. Not smug.
Soft.
Like he was cataloguing every detail and committing it to memory.
That did something dangerous to my chest.
"Hi," I said, quieter now.
"Hi," he replied.
Our knees brushed under the table. His hand found mine easily, naturally, like it had always belonged there.
Felix made a gagging noise.
"Oh, don't start," I warned.
Cin laughed. "We forgive you."
I blinked. "For?"
"For whatever emotional damage you were apparently working through," he said lightly. "You look… better."
That surprised me.
I swallowed. "Yeah. I feel better."
Keifer squeezed my hand once, grounding.
The waitress came by then—smiling a little too brightly, eyes lingering a little too long.
On Keifer.
I noticed.
Of course I noticed.
Something sharp and ridiculous sparked in my chest.
Keifer noticed too.
Because without breaking eye contact with me, he slid his arm around my waist, pulling me closer until my shoulder brushed his chest.
The waitress's smile faltered.
"Ready to order?" she asked.
"Yes," Keifer said calmly. "We are."
I bit my lip to keep from smiling.
Dinner passed in laughter and noise and stories half-told, but under the table, our legs stayed tangled, fingers brushing, grounding each other in quiet ways no one else could see.
For once, I wasn't waiting for the moment to end.
I was inside it.
And for the first time in a long time—
That felt like enough.
KEIFER POV — JEALOUSY HAS A SOUND
Dinner had settled into its rhythm.
Plates half-empty. Laughter bouncing off the warm walls. Section E loud in that familiar, careless way—forks clinking, Felix mid-story, Cin stealing fries like he'd been starving for days instead of minutes.
Jay sat beside me.
Close enough that her warmth pressed into my side. Close enough that when she laughed, it traveled straight through me instead of the room. I kept my hand on her knee under the table, thumb resting there like a quiet claim, like reassurance—to her, to myself.
I was content.
That should've been the warning.
"OH MY GOD—JAY JAY?!"
The shout cut through everything.
Forks paused mid-air. Conversations stalled. Even Section E went quiet for half a second, which honestly said a lot.
I felt Jay stiffen beside me.
Then—before I could even turn toward the voice—she was already on her feet.
Her chair scraped back. Her hand slipped from mine.
And she was smiling.
Not the small, soft smile she gave me. Not the teasing one she gave the boys.
This one was wide. Bright. Unfiltered.
"ADAM?!"
She crossed the space between tables in seconds.
I watched it happen like it was slow motion.
The guy—tall, maybe around her age, confident in that effortless way that screamed New York—looked just as stunned. Then his face lit up, and the next thing I knew—
She was in his arms.
A full hug.
Not polite. Not brief.
The kind where she was lifted onto her toes and laughed into his shoulder.
Something sharp went straight through my chest.
It wasn't rage.
It wasn't even anger.
It was that tight, ugly thing—territorial and irrational—that made my jaw lock before I could stop it.
Around the table, everyone stared.
Felix's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline.
Cin leaned back, eyes flicking between me and them like he was watching a tennis match he didn't understand.
I didn't move.
Didn't say anything.
Just watched.
Jay pulled back first, hands still on the guy's shoulders, eyes scanning his face like she was making sure he was real.
"Oh my God," she said breathlessly. "How are you here? Where have you been? Why didn't you tell me you were coming? What are you doing in Manila?"
He laughed, holding up his hands. "Hey—slow down. I'm great. I swear. Still breathing."
She swatted his arm lightly. "You disappeared."
"Business," he said. "I'm here for a few weeks. Meetings, boring suits, the whole nightmare."
They were already falling into rhythm—inside jokes, shared timing, the kind of easy familiarity that doesn't need warming up.
My fingers curled tighter around my glass.
That sound—the way she laughed with him—did something I didn't like.
I cleared my throat.
Not loud.
But intentional.
Jay turned.
Her eyes flicked to me—and for just a second, something softened there. Awareness. Consideration.
"Oh," she said quickly. "Sorry—Adam, this is Keifer and my old friends..."
She reached for my hand without looking, like muscle memory.
"He is my good friend," she added, squeezing my fingers. "Adam. We were classmates. Back in New York. Harvard."
Adam's gaze shifted to me fully now, assessing. Curious. Not hostile—but not oblivious either.
"Nice to finally meet you," he said, holding out his hand.
I stood and shook it.
Firm grip. Confident. Too confident.
"Likewise," I said evenly.
Jay beamed between us, blissfully unaware of the quiet war I was fighting in my own head.
"We definitely need to catch up," Adam said to her. "Soon. No excuses."
"Absolutely," she replied. "I'm serious. Don't disappear again."
He smiled—and then, casually, he leaned in and hugged her again.
Shorter this time.
Still too much.
My jaw clenched.
When she came back to the table, the interrogation started immediately.
"WHO was that?" Felix demanded.
"Harvard?" Yuri echoed.
"You didn't tell us you had friends," Cin added dramatically.
Jay rolled her eyes, sitting back down beside me. "Relax. Adam's family. Practically."
My chest eased by a millimeter.
I didn't look at her.
Didn't trust my face.
"You okay?" she murmured, just for me.
"I'm fine," I said.
She studied me.
Then smiled—slow, knowing.
"Don't be jealous."
I scoffed. "I'm not."
Her eyebrow lifted. "You are."
"I'm not," I repeated, firmer.
She leaned closer, voice soft and amused. "You totally are."
I turned to her then, meeting her eyes. "He hugged you twice."
She bit her lip.
Not apologetic.
Fond.
Dinner ended not long after.
The boys were loud again, the moment passed—but something had shifted inside me. A restlessness I couldn't shake.
I drove her back to the villa in silence that wasn't uncomfortable, just… heavy.
At the gate, she turned to me.
"Hey," she said gently. "Adam's like a brother..you don't have to worry about him..."
I exhaled slowly.
I leaned in and kissed her—slow, deliberate, grounding. A kiss that said mine without words.
"Good night, Jay," I murmured against her forehead.
She smiled. "Good night, Keifer."
I watched her walk inside.
Only when the door closed did I let the jealousy settle—quiet, controlled, but undeniably there.
Because loving her meant wanting her happiness.
And wanting her—
Meant learning how to share the space she'd lived in before me...