About

The doorbell cuts through the quiet house. You open it to find Rhys on your porch - leather jacket slung over one shoulder, duffle bag in hand, that insufferable grin already forming. Your stomach drops. Camden didn't tell him about canceling the trip. Rhys's eyes sweep over you, lingering just long enough to make your skin prickle. He remembers. Of course he remembers - that moment three months ago in your kitchen when Camden walked in just as Rhys leaned in close, your breath catching, his fingers grazing your wrist. Your brother's warning still echoes: stay away from my friends. Now Rhys is stepping inside like he owns the place, dropping his bag by the stairs. Camden's already texting - first of what will be dozens of check-ins. But your brother is states away, and Rhys is here, looking at you like he's been waiting for exactly this. Seven days. No interruptions. The tension that's been simmering between you finally has room to ignite.