Chapter 29

The second the front door clicked shut behind Dani, the Katseye house fell off her shoulders like a coat that had been two sizes too tight. She kicked off her sneakers in the hallway of your apartment, lavender scented hair tumbling free from the beanie shoved on for the stealth exit.

“Officially off-duty,” she sighed, stretching until her hoodie rose up enough to flash the soft beneath her navel. “No cameras, no schedule, no curfew. Just you, and me, and your questionable Wi-Fi.”

You tugged her duffel inside. “And my even more questionable pyjama drawer. Pick your poison, pop star.”

*

You raided the fridge first – leftover dumplings, two spoons, zero shame – then padded to your room. The drawer screeched open and Dani dove in like it was a merch table. She bypassed the flannel, side-eyed the oversized tee that still smelled like her last visit, and emerged victorious with one of your oldest sets: heather-grey cotton shorts and a button-up top printed with tiny red cherries.

“These scream ‘girlfriend steal.'” she declared, already shimmying out of her jeans right there on your rug.

You pretended to fluff pillows while secretly watching denim slide down the curve of her thighs. She caught you in the act and smirked. “Eyes up, thief.”

You waited until she ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and bun her hair for the night.

That was your cue.

Cheeky, yes – reckless, maybe – but you’d hidden the set at the bottom of the basket this morning: silky charcoal shorts cut high enough to be confused with lingerie, and a matching cami with a lace racer back that did absolutely nothing to hide the fact the AC was on.

The piece de resistance?

A single cherry-red ribbon threaded through the neckline – tied in a bow right between your breasts.

Dani walked back in, towel-drying her hands, and stopped dead. Her gaze straight to the ribbon, then south to the shorts riding so high they kissed the crease where thigh becomes please-keep-touching.

“Those,” she said slowly, “are not pyjamas. Those are a breath away from a warrant.”

You lifted one shoulder, letting the cami strap slip just enough to threaten collapse. “You took my cherries. I figured I’d return the favour… with strings attached.”

She exhaled through her teeth, the sound half-laugh, half-growl. “You’re wearing a bow, babe. That’s basically a gift tag that says ‘pull here for screaming.”

You climbed onto the mattress, crawling up the middle until you were eye level with her. “Movie?” You asked, faux innocent, already scrolling the remote. “Something mindless so you can, y’now, rest after your big escape from the house.”

She snorted, yanking the duvet up over both your legs. “Pick whatever, I’m clearly not going to see a frame of it.”

You queued up a nostalgic animated film – lots of singing furniture, zero suspense – then settled back against the headboard. Dani mirrored you for about three seconds before her gaze slid sideways, magnet to metal.

The ribbon between your breasts had twisted so the bow sat slightly askew, like it was volunteering for early retirement.

Two bars into the opening song – and her pinky abandoned the popcorn bowl, sliding instead along the inside of your knee. Casual, almost accidental. You kept your eyes on the screen, but the smirk gave you away.

She felt it.

“Watch the movie,” she muttered, voice low, amused. Her hand drifted higher, knuckles ghosting up your thigh until the hem of those dangerously short shorts became a checkpoint she blew straight through.

Thumb slipped under elastic, tracing the seam where hip meets… well, please-continue. A lazy circle, then two – testing, teasing, asking without words if the neutral zone had just been annexed.

You swallowed a gasp, reached for a fistful of popcorn to look busy. “Thought you were exhausted from practice?”

“Exhausted,” she agreed, fingers inching inward, “not dead.”

The sheets tented slightly where her wrist moved; anyone outside our little cotton cavern would think we were simply cosy.

Inside, her fingertips drew feather-light patterns that made your abs flutter and the ribbon bow between your breasts feel suddenly too tight, even though it was still technically tied.

On screen, candlesticks danced. You couldn’t make out a single lyric. Dani’s breath warmed to your ear. “Keep pretending to watch,” she whispered, pressing just enough pressure under the waistband to make your hips tilt involuntarily. “I like how quiet you get when you’re trying not to beg.”

You bit your lip, thighs parting a fraction – permission wrapped in mischief. Her hand curved, slow and sure, silk shorts shifting higher with every subtle rock until the fabric bunched and her knuckles brushed against the spot that turned your smugness into a shaky exhale.

The popcorn bowl wobbled.

You caught it before it spilled, cheeks flaming. Dani chuckled, wicked, and eased back just enough to leave you hovering on the edge of more. “Don’t worry,” she said, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple for the invisible audience of singing teacups, “plenty of movie left.”

“And I’m very good with rewinds.”

———-

I think I liked this one 😉

Hope you guys did too <3