[Jay's POV]
The afternoon sun was streaming through the kitchen windows, turning the bubbles in the sink into tiny, iridescent prisms. After the high-velocity chaos of the morning, I had retreated to the kitchen. There was something meditative about the warm water and the rhythmic scrubbing of the lunch dishes—a way to ground my soaring heart rate after the "Door Incident."
I was lost in thought, humming a small melody I didn't know I knew, when the air behind me shifted.
I didn't need to turn around. My internal sensors immediately recognized the specific thermal signature of Keifer. Before I could even rinse the plate in my hand, I felt the solid, muscular weight of his chest press against my back. His arms wound around my waist, his large hands splaying over my stomach, pulling me back into him until there wasn't a single atom of oxygen between us.
"Keifer," I breathed, my hands still submerged in the soapy water. "I'm working."
"And I'm appreciating the view," he murmured, his voice a low, vibrating hum against my ear.
He didn't stop there. He leaned down, his lips finding the sensitive curve where my neck met my shoulder. He began to trail slow, lingering kisses upward toward my jawline. Each contact felt like a deliberate short-circuit to my logical brain. My eyes fluttered shut, and the plate I was holding nearly slipped back into the water.
"Keifer... stop," I whispered, though I was leaning my head back against his shoulder to give him better access. "The others... they're all right there in the living room. Mamma, Pappa... everyone."
"The living room is thirty feet away, behind a soundproofed archway," he countered, his lips grazing my earlobe. "According to the laws of probability, we have at least a 98% chance of—"
"GET A ROOM! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, GET A ROOM!"
The "98% chance" plummeted to zero in a heartbeat.
I jumped, splashing soapy water all over the marble counter, and spun around in Keifer's arms.
Standing by the refrigerator, clutching an empty sports bottle, was Keigan. He looked like a person who had just walked into a haunted house for the second time in one day. His face was a mixture of pure exasperation and genuine trauma.
"Again?" Keigan groaned, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "Seriously? I just wanted water! I'm a growing athlete! I need hydration to survive, but apparently, I have to navigate a minefield of 'Kuya's Romance' just to get to the tap!"
Keifer didn't let go of me. He didn't even look embarrassed this time. He just leaned his chin on the top of my head and glared at his younger brother. "Keigan, do you not have a room of your own? Or perhaps a hobby? Like... shoveling the driveway?"
"I was in my room! I was having a hobby!" Keigan shouted, waving his bottle around. "But then I got thirsty! I didn't realize the kitchen had been converted into a 'No-Go Zone' for anyone under the age of twenty-one! Do I need to ring a bell before I enter a room? Should I wear a blindfold?"
I buried my face in my hands, the heat in my cheeks probably enough to boil the dishwater. "I told you, Keifer," I muffled through my fingers. "I told you someone would come in."
Ate, don't apologize," Keigan said, finally stepping toward the sink, keeping his eyes strictly on the faucet and nowhere near us. "It's not your fault. It's him. He's lost his mind. He's like a malfunctioning robot that only has one setting now: 'Clingy.'"
"I am not malfunctioning," Keifer stated calmly. "I am simply optimizing my time with my fiancée."
"Optimizing?" Keigan scoffed, filling his bottle with aggressive speed. "You're embarrassing! If the guys at school saw the 'Chill Prince' acting like a lovesick puppy in the kitchen, your reputation would be in the negatives. Below zero, Kuya. Absolute Zero."
Keigan capped his bottle and turned to leave, but stopped at the archway, pointing a stern finger at Keifer.
One hour. I am giving you one hour of kitchen time. After that, Keiran and I are coming in here for snacks, and if I see so much as a hug, I am calling Mamma and Pappa to stage an intervention. Go get a room, Kuya! Preferably one with a working lock!"
He vanished back toward the living room, his grumbling voice echoing down the hall.
The kitchen fell silent again. I looked up at Keifer, who was looking down at me with an unrepentant, mischievous glint in his eyes.
"So," he whispered, his hands sliding back.down to my waist. "We have one hour."
"Keifer Watson!" I laughed, finally pushing him away and picking up the sponge. "Finish your 'optimization' somewhere else. I have dishes to do, and I am not being the subject of a Watson family intervention before dinner!"
He let out a long, dramatic sigh of defeat, but he leaned in and stole one last, quick kiss from my lips before retreating. "Fine. But for the record... Keigan is just jealous because his 'math' doesn't include a genius Empress."
I watched him walk away, a smile tugging at my lips. My life as an "Ate" was loud, crowded, and lacked any semblance of privacy—and for some reason, the math had never felt more perfect.