Keifer POV
____________________AFTER THE FERNANDEZ DINNER – MY PLACE________________________
Jay didn't say a word on the drive home.
She sat curled in the passenger seat, arms crossed, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands like she was trying to disappear into herself. Her jaw was tight, her eyes locked on the window, and I could feel the storm still brewing under her skin.
I didn't say anything.
Didn't try to fix it.
Just let her sit in the silence, knowing she'd speak when she was ready — or not. Either way, I wasn't going anywhere.
When we pulled into the driveway, the porch light was already on. Keigan's doing. Subtle, steady, always one step ahead. Keiren's face popped up in the window a second later, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
Jay blinked at him.
Then — finally — smiled.
Just a little.
But it was enough.
We stepped inside, and Keiren immediately launched into a dramatic retelling of how he'd nearly set the microwave on fire trying to reheat pizza. Jay let out a laugh — soft, surprised, real — and I swear I saw her shoulders drop for the first time all night.
Keigan handed her a mug of tea without a word. She took it like it was sacred.
"You're safe now," he said.
Jay didn't respond.
But she didn't have to.
Her eyes said everything.
Later, after my brothers had disappeared — Keigan to his room with a book, Keiren still narrating his life from behind a closed door — Jay and I were alone.
She was curled up on the couch in my hoodie, legs tucked under her, hair messy, eyes heavy.
"You're still mad," I said, sitting beside her.
"I'm not mad," she muttered.
"You're jealous."
She turned her head slowly. "I'm not jealous."
"You called me 'babe' in front of your entire family."
"I was making a point."
"You made it," I said, leaning closer. "Loud. Clear. And hot."
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed.
I reached out, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You don't have to fight so hard here," I said, voice low.
She blinked. "I'm not used to soft."
"Then let me be the exception."
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then stood.
Walked past me.
And into my room.
I followed.
Closed the door behind us.
She stood in the middle of the room, back to me, hands clenched at her sides.
I crossed the space slowly.
Wrapped my arms around her from behind.
She leaned into me.
"I don't want to think tonight," she whispered.
"Then don't."
She turned in my arms.
Looked up at me.
And pulled off the hoodie.
Dropped it to the floor.
I kissed her.
Slow at first.
Then deeper.
Hungrier.
Like I'd been waiting for this moment since the day I met her.
Her hands slid under my shirt, fingertips tracing fire across my skin.
I pulled it over my head and tossed it aside.
She was already working on the button of my jeans.
I caught her wrists.
Paused.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded.
"I want this," she said. "I want you."
That was all I needed.
We tumbled onto the bed in a mess of limbs and laughter and heat.
Her skin was soft and warm beneath my hands.
Her mouth tasted like cinnamon and defiance.
She gasped when I kissed down her neck, her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder.
I took my time.
Let her set the pace.
Let her take control.
Let her lose it.
And when she whispered my name — breathless, desperate, mine — I knew I'd never forget the sound.
We moved together like we'd done this a thousand times in another life.
Like we'd always been meant to find our way here.
To this night.
To each other.
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Goals 🎯
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