JayJay POV
I woke up tangled in sheets and Keifer.
His arm was draped over my waist, his breath warm against my neck, and we were both very, very naked.
My legs ached.
My throat was dry.
And my brain was still trying to process the fact that I'd slept with him — not just physically, but emotionally. I'd let him see me. All of me.
And he hadn't run.
He'd held me.
Kissed me.
Stayed.
I shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but he stirred anyway — blinking up at me with that sleepy, smug smile that made me want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.
"Morning, babe," he murmured.
I rolled my eyes. "You're insufferable."
"And you're glowing."
I shoved his shoulder.
He caught my hand.
Kissed my knuckles.
I melted.
Just a little.
But school was looming, and I wasn't about to walk into homeroom with bed hair and bite marks.
I slipped out of bed, grabbed my uniform from the chair, and tiptoed into the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, I was dressed, brushed, and mostly presentable — blazer buttoned, skirt straight, hair pulled back, and Keifer's hoodie still draped over my shoulders like a secret I wasn't ready to let go of.
I walked downstairs hoping for peace.
I got Keiren.
He was already at the table, halfway through a bowl of cereal, eyes wide like he'd just spotted a celebrity.
"Jay," he said, voice loud and delighted, "are you wearing Keifer's hoodie over your uniform?"
I froze.
Keigan looked up from the stove, calm and composed.
He smiled. "Morning, Jay. You look nice. Ready for school?"
I nodded, trying to act normal. "Thanks."
He handed me a plate of pancakes. "Plain. Syrup's on the table. Let me know if you want eggs."
I sat down.
Keifer walked in a moment later, hair damp, tie half-done, looking like he'd just rolled out of a cologne ad.
He kissed the top of my head.
"Morning, babe."
Keiren gasped. "Wait—Jay, is that a bite mark on your neck?"
I choked on my juice. "No, it's a mosquito bite."
Keigan didn't even blink. "Yeah, the mosquito's name is Keifer."
The actual mosquito was just smirking at the chaos he'd created.
Keiren leaned forward. "Jay, can you pass the syrup?"
Keifer, still grinning, added, "Keiren, call her Ate. Keigan too. She's your future sister-in-law."
I choked again.
Hard.
Keiren blinked. "Oh. Okay. Ate Jay, can you pass the syrup?"
I handed it over with trembling hands and a face that could rival a tomato.
"Sure. Here you go."
Keigan just sipped his coffee like he hadn't just emotionally assassinated me with one sentence.
After surviving breakfast chaos and bite mark commentary, we dropped off Keiren and Keigan, then headed to school.
We pulled into the lot.
I was about to open the door when Keifer caught my wrist.
"I want more kisses," he said, voice low. "Last night wasn't enough."
I blinked.
Blushed.
And kissed him.
Once.
Twice.
Then again.
And again.
Ten kisses later, I finally escaped the car — breathless, flustered, and very much not ready to face algebra.
But somehow?
I didn't care.
Because I was his.
And he was mine.
And the bite mark?
Was totally worth it.