Jay's face was a shade of crimson that rivaled the sunset, and without a single word, she turned and hurried down the hallway toward their room, her footsteps quick and light.
Sophia, satisfied with the chaos she'd caused, followed her with a waggle of her eyebrows, leaving the hallway quiet.
But Keifer didn't move. He stood in the center of the rug, his hands still shaped as if they were holding her waist, his gaze fixed on the empty space where her lips had touched his skin.
He was completely and utterly frozen.
"Keifer?" his mother said, walking up to him.
She reached out and snapped her fingers right in front of his eyes.
"Earth to Keifer? The girl is gone, darling. You can breathe now."
The snap of her fingers broke the spell. Keifer let out a breath he seemed to have been holding since the coast.
His eyes were wide and dazed. Without a word to his mother, he turned to the very first door he saw, twisted the handle, and practically dove inside.
He didn't even look at the decor. He just needed a place to collapse.
He stumbled toward the bed and flopped onto his back, his limbs heavy and his heart still doing Olympic-level sprints.
He stared at the ceiling, his hand coming up to touch his collarbone, a dazed, lopsided grin finally breaking onto his face.
He felt like he was floating.
A moment later, the door creaked open.
His mother stood there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and a look of pure, maternal amusement on her face.
"You know," she said softly, "it's very sweet that you're this affected, Keifer."
He didn't look at her, still lost in the memory of Jay's lips. "I'm just tired, Mom."
"I'm sure you are," she teased, walking further into the room.
"But if you're going to have a dramatic crisis of the heart, you might want to do it in your own quarters. Keifer... this is my room."
Keifer's eyes snapped shut in pure, agonizing embarrassment.
He groaned loudly, rolling over to bury his face in her floral-scented pillows.
"Just leave me here to die. Please."
His mother laughed, a warm and melodic sound.
"Not yet, my boy. You have a dinner to get through. And I suspect Jay is currently hiding under her own covers, feeling exactly the same way."
Keifer groaned into the pillow, the floral scent of his mother's room doing nothing to calm the electrical storm still raging under his skin.
He felt like his entire body was buzzing, his collarbone still warm from the accidental touch of Jay's lips.
His mother sat on the edge of the bed, patting his shoulder with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Oh, stop being such a 'Mama's boy' and hiding in my pillows, Keifer! Where is that Golden Boy I raised? The one who used to flirt with every girl in the city? Girls used to go mad just for a glance from you, and now you're hiding in your mother's room because a girl touched your chest?"
Keifer rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling with wide, dazed eyes. The "Golden Boy" mask was nowhere to be found.
"I don't know, Mom," he whispered, his voice cracking with a vulnerability he'd never shown anyone.
"I don't know what's happening. Her touch... it's like an electric shock. Every time she's near me, the world just goes quiet. I literally forgot how to breathe the second she looked into my eyes."
He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking utterly defeated by his own heart.
"I've never felt like this. It's terrifying.when she smile it's just....I don't know what happen"
Her mother laughed, swaying her hand through his hair said "Even a beast fall for the right smile."
Just then, the bathroom door creaked open. His father stepped out, drying his hands on a towel, and stopped dead when he saw his grown son sprawled across their bed.
"Keifer?" his father asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "What on earth are you doing in here? Did you lose your way to your own wing?"
His mother burst into a warm, melodic laugh, looking at her husband. "Oh, leave him be, darling. Our son is finally in over his head."
She leaned toward her husband, whispering loudly enough for Keifer to hear,
"He's hopelessly in love, but he's turned into a nervous wreck. He can't even express himself because he's too busy freezing up the moment she looks at him!"
"Mom! Stop!" Keifer groaned, pulling a decorative pillow over his face to hide his flaming red cheeks.
His father let out a rare, booming chuckle. "In love, eh? Well, it was about time someone brought the Golden Boy to his knees. Just try not to pass out during dinner, son. It's bad for the family image."
Keifer stayed under the pillow, his heart thumping. He knew they were right.
He was falling, and for the first time in his life, he didn't want to be saved.
Keifer stared at his father, his jaw practically hitting the floor.
The man standing before him wasn't the cold, calculated businessman who ran the Watson empire with an iron fist.
The stern lines around his eyes had softened, replaced by a look of worldly wisdom that Keifer had never seen directed at him before.
His father turned to his mother with a brief, commanding nod.
"Elena, darling, give us the room for a moment. Men's business."
His mother smirked, blowing a kiss to Keifer before slipping out of the room, leaving the two of them in a heavy, contemplative silence.
His father pulled out a chair, gesturing for Keifer to sit. For the first time in his life, they weren't talking about stocks, mergers, or the "Stepfather" problem.
They were talking like friends.
"Listen to me, son," his father started, his voice low and grounded.
"You're letting her lead the dance without her even knowing it. You're the 'Golden Boy,' aren't you? You have the charm that half the city would kill for. Why are you letting a slip of a girl turn you into a stammering mess?"
Keifer rubbed the back of his neck, his face still warm. "It's not that easy, Dad. She's... she's different."
"Of course she is. That's why you're in this state and me too, she even melted my heart," his father countered with a small, knowing smile.
He leaned forward, tapping the table for emphasis. "But here is my advice: Choose your charm. Don't let her shake you-you shake her. Stop blushing like a schoolboy. Be the flirt she expects you to be. Make her the one who can't breathe. Make her admit what she's feeling first."
Keifer looked up, startled. "You want me to play the game?"
"I want you to act like her husband," his father corrected firmly.
"Confidence is the only thing that breaks a woman's defenses. If you stay frozen, you'll never know if she truly wants you. Take control of the room, Keifer."
Keifer stood up, feeling a strange surge of adrenaline. The shock of his father's words was still there, but so was a new sense of clarity.
He had always seen his father as a judge, but in this moment, he realized his father was his first and oldest friend.
"I didn't know you had this in you, Dad," Keifer admitted with a faint, daring grin.
His father stood as well, clapping a heavy hand on Keifer's shoulder.
"A father is the first friend a son has when he grows up. Now, go back to your wing. Show her why they call you the Golden Boy."
Keifer nodded, his chest puffing out just a fraction more. The nervousness hadn't vanished, but he tucked it deep away.
He straightened his collar, smoothed his hair, unbutton half of his shirt, and walked out of the room with a newfound predator's grace.