was just a crop top.
Nothing special.
Nothing bold.
But the moment Jay walked into the living room that morning…
Keifer noticed.
Immediately.
Her waist.
Bare.
Soft.
And suddenly, his entire focus for the day.
He came to stand beside her without a word.
His hand slipped to her waist.
And didn't move.
Jay looked up at him.
"…Keifer?"
He only glanced at her for half a second.
Then looked away like he was trying very hard to stay normal.
When Serina called Jay from the kitchen, he walked with her.
His hand still there.
When Keigan dragged Jay to the hallway to show her something, Keifer followed.
Still there.
When she laughed with Keiren—
his fingers rested at the small of her back, light… possessive… familiar.
Jay finally whispered when no one was close,
"Are you planning to keep holding me like this the whole day?"
He leaned down near her ear.
"Yes."
Just one word.
Simple.
Honest.
By evening, Jay already knew.
This wasn't accidental.
It was him.
Unable to help himself.
And when the mansion finally went quiet…
When everyone was busy in their own rooms…
Jay had just finished brushing her hair when—
click.
Her door opened softly.
Keifer slipped inside.
She turned.
Smiling.
"You really enjoy risking your life, don't you?"
He walked straight to her.
No teasing.
No excuses.
His hands went to her waist the very second he reached her.
Like they had been waiting all day.
He bent down slowly.
Pressed his lips just above her navel.
Once.
Then again.
And again.
Soft, lingering kisses along her waist.
Unhurried.
Continuous.
As if he couldn't stop himself.
Jay's breath trembled.
Her fingers slid into his hair without thinking.
Curling there.
Holding him.
Keifer kept kissing her waist gently, slowly moving back and forth, like the world above her shoulders didn't exist anymore.
She whispered his name.
He paused only to rest his forehead lightly against her stomach.
His hands still holding her.
His voice came out low.
Quiet.
Almost helpless.
"Please…"
She looked down at him.
He lifted his face.
"…don't wear anything that shows your waist like this."
Jay blinked softly.
"What?"
A small, breathless laugh escaped him.
"I really can't resist myself," he admitted.
Her fingers tightened in his hair.
Smiling.
"Is that really my fault?"
He looked at her.
That soft, dangerous honesty in his eyes.
"No," he whispered.
"It's mine."
And then he stood up and pulled her gently into his arms—
holding her close,
right where his hands had clearly decided to stay.