Morning came like nothing had happened.

Sunlight spilled across the sheets. Rhea woke with a sore throat, sore thighs, and the lingering echo of Beck's mouth between her legs.

But he was gone.

No text. No note. Just a faint warmth on the other side of her bed and the smell of him on her pillow.

She didn't see him until noon. In the kitchen. Shirtless. Cooking scrambled eggs like he hadn't made her sob his name five times into the mattress just hours before.

"Morning," he said, like he wasn't the devil.

"Morning," she said a beat slower, enjoying the view.

He raised a brow. "Did you want breakfast or a round two?"

Her stomach clenched.

Madison walked in seconds later, all sunshine and cluelessness.

"I slept so hard," she yawned, completely unaware.

Rhea nearly dropped her coffee.

---

That night, it started again.

She walked out of the bathroom wearing only a tank top and underwear.

Beck was sitting on her bed. Waiting.

"You shouldn't be here," she whispered.

"I know."

"You can't keep-"

"I won't touch you," he said, standing, "unless you ask."

She didn't move. Didn't breathe.

His fingers brushed her cheek. "But if you do... I'm not stopping this time."

Her hands gripped his hoodie. Pulled him forward.

And he took her.

Onto the bed. Onto her back. Onto the edge.

His mouth was everywhere. Tongue at her nipple. Teeth on her neck.

She reached down, needing more. He caught her wrist.

"No," he growled. "Not yet."

His fingers circled her clit. Featherlight. Relentless.

Then stopped.

She cried out.

"Please," she begged.

"No."

He slid two fingers inside. Curled them. Then stopped again.

Her hips bucked. Her breath caught.

"Say you want to come."

"Beck-"

"Say it."

"I want to come," she whimpered.

"Not enough."

He kissed down her body again. Tongue slow. Hands holding her open.

She shook.

"Please," she gasped. "I need it. I'll break-"

"Then break," he whispered.

And he kept her there. Right on the edge.

Again. And again. Until tears pricked her eyes.

Until her thighs were trembling and her voice was cracked.

Until her hips lifted and her mouth begged and her eyes begged and her soul begged.

"Please let me come, Beck. Please. I'm yours. I'll do anything, just-fuck, please-"

He looked down at her. Smiling.

"There it is."

And when he finally let her fall over the edge?

She screamed.

So loud, she was sure Madison heard.

And for the first time, she didn't care.

___

Rhea avoided him for exactly twelve hours and thirty-seven minutes.

She timed it. Because every second of silence between them felt like its own form of punishment.

She couldn't look at him without remembering the way his voice had cracked against her skin. Couldn't sit without feeling the echo of his mouth between her thighs. Couldn't think without the memory of how broken she'd sounded, begging him to let her come.

But today, she tried.

She wore jeans. No shorts. No tank top. No soft sighs or flushed cheeks. Just full-on denial, wrapped in sarcasm and zipped into a hoodie two sizes too big.

Beck didn't say anything that morning. Didn't text. Didn't look up from his cereal when she walked into the kitchen.

It hurt more than she expected.

Madison, still blissfully unaware, was flipping pancakes and humming along to some early 2010s playlist. The air smelled like syrup and cinnamon. It should've felt safe. Comfortable.

Instead, every inch of the house buzzed with heat.

Unspoken tension. Sex pressed into the walls. The memory of Beck whispering, "Break," still ringing in her ears.

---

By afternoon, Rhea was out by the pool. Pretending to read. Pretending the sun could burn away the ache he left in her. She had earbuds in. Bikini on under a shirt. Legs stretched out, skin kissed by light.

She didn't hear him walk out.

But she felt it.

The second his shadow passed over her thighs, her stomach dipped.

"You look like you're running from something," Beck said.

She didn't look up. "Maybe I am."

A pause. Then the soft rustle of his shirt hitting the ground.

"You think pretending last night didn't happen will make it go away?" he asked, stepping closer.

"Maybe I want it to."

His breath hitched. Then, softer:

"You really think I can forget you?"

That made her look up.

He crouched beside her, eyes intense.

"I've wanted you for years, Rhea."

She blinked. "What?"

"You don't know this, but... when I first met you, yeah, you were my cousin's hot best friend and I tried so hard to act normal. You felt untouchable. You were older, brilliant, already doing internships and winning shit, and I was just this dumb seventeen-year-old who thought you were it."

Her throat went dry.

"You had a boyfriend. Then another. And I just... watched. And waited. I wasn't gonna be some annoying kid trying to get your attention. But last year? I almost told you. The feelings didn't go away."

She stared at him. Mouth parted. Brain glitching.

"Beck..."

"I didn't expect this summer to happen. I didn't think I'd actually get the chance to touch you. But now that I have?"

He leaned in. Lips brushing her ear.

"I'm not letting go."

Madison's voice rang out from the kitchen window.

"Hey, Rhea! We're heading into town in a bit. You wanna come?"

Rhea cleared her throat. "Yeah! Just give me ten!"

Madison didn't see the way Beck's hand slid over Rhea's thigh, slow and possessive.

Didn't see the way Rhea's eyes fluttered shut.

Didn't see how close Beck came to kissing her again.

"You'll come back," he whispered. "And when you do, we'll stop pretending."

---

Two hours later, she was back.

Madison stayed in town to meet a guy she matched with on Bumble.

The house was quiet. Beck wasn't in the living room. Or the kitchen.

But her door was open.

He was sitting on her bed.

Hoodie off. Just sweatpants. Bare chest. And that look.

"Lock the door," he said.

She did.

He stood. Walked over. Took her face in his hands.

"Are you done pretending you don't want this?"

"I'm scared," she admitted. "Of how much I want this."

He kissed her. "Then stop running."

And she did.

They tore at each other. Her shirt. His sweats. Her bra. His mouth.

He dropped to his knees.

"Take off your jeans," he said.

She did.

He slid her panties down with his teeth.

And then?

He devoured her.

Wet. Messy. No pause. No shame.

Tongue deep. Hands tight on her thighs.

She moaned, high and breathless.

He kept going until she was shaking.

And then?

She dropped to her knees too.

Pulled his cock out, kissed the tip, then took him in her mouth.

He groaned-head thrown back, hands gripping her hair.

"Fuck, Rhea... you're gonna kill me."

She sucked him harder. Deeper.

And when he came, moaning her name into the dark room-

She swallowed.

Then stood.

And they kissed. Filthy and breathless. Like there was no more pretending left to do.