Kian stood at the kitchen island, forearms tense against the marble, his black t-shirt snug at the shoulders, jaw hard as he watched the girl across from him drop a dripping teabag into his favorite mug. Sarelle’s hair was still wet from a shower, wild and dark down her back, clothes a loose collage—linen pants, a faded tank, some beaded anklet that clicked lightly on the tile. She grinned as if she owned the place, then shot him a look from under messy lashes that said, “Try me.”

He snatched his mug from her fingers a little too roughly, their skin grazing—a jolt of static. Her mouth curled. “You always this territorial, Roomie?” she teased, and his retort came out sharp: “Some of us respect boundaries. Maybe you should learn how.” But she only lifted one eyebrow, unbothered, and let her gaze drop for a split second to his hands—steady, strong, callused from endless hours with a controller. He caught the flicker and his pulse kicked up, annoyed at how she got under his skin.

Their bickering was a live wire, sparks flying as they circled each other in that small space, tossing barbs as if stalling for something neither would name. Kian caught a glimpse of her tattoo—a little dove over her collarbone—when she stretched to reach for honey. He made himself look away, pretending to fix the streaming schedule on his phone. Sarelle nudged closer, a scent of salt and coconut clinging to her skin, and whispered, “You’re fun when you’re angry.”

Before he could reply, the elevator chimed—a third voice, all swagger and cologne, filling the air with a confidence that didn’t care who noticed. Vyn strolled in, black button-down open at the throat, eyes alight with practiced interest. “New faces, new tensions. I love it,” he announced, scanning both of them before settling in beside Sarelle, his grin slow and predatory.

Kian stiffened as Vyn leaned into Sarelle’s space, voice low, hand grazing her thigh just beneath the hem of her shorts. Her laughter faltered only a heartbeat, a flush rising that she pretended to ignore. “You know, if you ever want an insider tour of the city—” Vyn started, his thumb tracing a subtle line on her skin. Sarelle smirked, unfazed but not moving away, her eyes cutting over to Kian, challenging him to react.

Kian looked away, jaw clenched, but the jealousy was primal—irrational, searing. Why was he even surprised? He wasn’t supposed to care. He felt the burn of their flirtation down his spine even after they left for the coworking lounge.

Later, he found Sarelle alone again, curled in an armchair, scrolling through photos on her camera. Her bare legs were drawn under her, lips pursed in concentration; she didn’t look up when he hovered in her doorway. “You have a type, huh?” he spat, trying to sound careless and failing. She glanced up, eyes cool and bright. “And you have a problem with that?”

For a moment they just stared, breath held in a charged hush. Then he crossed the room, dragging her up out of the chair, lips crashing into hers before she could protest. The kiss was a dare, hungry and rough—his hands tangled in her hair, hers fisted hard in the hem of his shirt. She bit his lip, made him gasp, then pulled him onto the bed.

Clothes were lost between kisses and swearing. Sarelle arched beneath him, nails raking his back, both of them frantic to drown out whatever hurt or need knotted them tight. He moved over her like he was afraid to let go, her name a hoarse whisper on his tongue. She met every movement with a matching hunger—hips, hands, mouth always searching, daring him to keep up.

After, their breathing slowed. Sarelle lay stretched beside him, bare back gleaming with sweat in the lamplight. Kian watched her, a lump in his chest he didn’t have a name for, afraid that if he spoke now she’d vanish. She rolled over, trailing fingers along his jaw, playful but cautious—her smile just a little sad.

Down the hall, Vyn stood alone on the darkened rooftop, phone lit up. His fingers scrolled through a secret list, adding a new name—Sarelle—next to a tally of small, cruel victories.

To be continued...