The air between them was electric, thick with a tension so heavy that Jay felt like she was underwater.
Keifer's words-
"I saw everything"
-were still ringing in her ears, making her skin tingle.
She was pinned against the headboard, her breath coming in ragged hitches as she watched his gaze drop, fixed entirely on her lips.
He leaned in closer, his shadow swallowing her up.
His lips were hovering just inches away, so close she could feel the heat radiating from him.
Jay's heart hammered against her ribs, a wild, frantic rhythm.
Her eyelashes fluttered, her resistance melting away as her own gaze fell to his lips.
Her eyes were almost closed, her head tilting back instinctively to meet him halfway-
Knock.
The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room.
Jay's survival instincts, honed by years of being the shy, kicked in instantly.
With a surge of panicked strength, she slammed her palms against Keifer's chest and shoved.
She pushed much harder than necessary; Keifer, caught completely off guard in his state of total focus, actually lurched backward, his whole body shaking from the impact as he scrambled to keep his balance on the mattress.
Jay scrambled to the other side of the bed, smoothing down the oversized white shirt with trembling hands, her face a shade of red that looked physically painful.
The door swung open, and Mrs. Watson stepped in with the breezy confidence of someone who owned the place.
"Jay, I was just saying-"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Her eyes traveled from her son, who was sitting on the bed looking disheveled and deeply annoyed, to Jay, who was standing there in a massive white button-down, her hair a mess and her face flushed a vivid, tell-tale crimson.
A slow, knowing smirk spread across Mrs. Watson's face.
She leaned against the doorframe, her tone dripping with delight.
"Oh! I think I entered at exactly the wrong time."
Keifer let out a long, frustrated groan that sounded like a growl.
He sat up, raking a hand through his hair and glaring at the door.
"Now you realize?"
he snapped, making no effort to hide his irritation at the ruined moment.
Jay's head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with mortification.
She shot him a glare that was meant to be terrifying but was mostly just adorable because of how shy she looked.
It was a "dead glare" that screamed, Shut up, Keifer!
Mrs. Watson just chuckled, clearly enjoying the chaos she'd caused.
"Well, since I'm already here,"
she teased, looking between the two of them,
"breakfast is getting cold. But if you two need another... hour... I suppose I can wait."
Jay looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.
Jay didn't even wait for a second invitation.
The moment the word "hour" left Mrs.
Watson's lips, Jay's brain effectively short-circuited.
With her face burning a shade of red that rivaled a sunset, she didn't look at Keifer, and she certainly didn't look at his mother.
She bolted.
The oversized white shirt flared out behind her like a cape as she scrambled off the far side of the bed.
Her bare feet hit the plush carpet with a soft thud-thud-thud as she sprinted toward the en-suite bathroom.
She moved with the speed of someone escaping a crime scene, her long sleeves flapping wildly.
SLAM.
The bathroom door clicked shut, followed immediately by the unmistakable sound of the lock turning.
Inside, Jay pressed her back against the cool wood of the door, her chest heaving as she whisper
"Can't he lock the door."
But she covered her face with both hands as she realise what she wisper.
Her heart was drum-rolling against her ribs.
She could still feel the phantom heat of Keifer's lips inches from hers, and the mortification of being caught in his shirt-the shirt he claimed he put on her-was almost too much to bear.
Outside in the bedroom, a heavy, awkward silence followed the slam of the door.
Keifer sat on the edge of the bed, his hair a mess from the "attack" earlier, looking entirely like a man who had just been robbed of the best moment of his life.
He slowly turned his head to look at his mother, his eyes narrowed in a flat, deadpan stare.
"Feel better now?"
he asked, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm.
Mrs. Watson didn't look guilty at all.
In fact, she looked like she had just won a prize.
She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe with a delighted hum.
"She's quite fast when she's flustered, isn't she?
And that shirt... it looks much better on her than it ever did on you, Keifer."
Keifer's mother watched him with a triumphant glint in her eyes, her chuckle echoing as she saw her usually stoic son actually blushing.
Keifer rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face was impossible to hide.
He rubbed the back of his neck, the heat of the moment still lingering on his skin.
"I should go,"
he muttered, more to himself than to her, before making a quick exit.
He needed a moment to shake off the adrenaline and the lingering scent of Jay's hair before facing the rest of his family.
Inside the sanctuary of the bathroom, Jay took her time.
She splashed cool water on her face, trying to wash away the vivid crimson of her cheeks.
She changed out of the oversized white shirt—the shirt that now felt like a heavy secret—and pulled on a simple, more than knee-length floral dress.
The soft fabric felt safe and familiar against her skin.
She took a final deep breath, smoothed down her hair, and clicked the lock open.
The bedroom was flooded with light, but as Jay stepped out, the silence hit her.
Her eyes darted to the bed, then to the balcony, and finally to the chair where his jacket had been.
It was empty.
The sudden absence of his presence made her chest feel strangely heavy, a tiny knot of loneliness tightening in the center of her heart.
He's already gone down, she thought, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her sleeve.
She exhaled a long, shaky breath, trying to steady her nerves.
She couldn't hide forever.
Slowly, she walked toward the door and stepped out into the hallway, the grand house feeling much larger and quieter without Keifer standing right beside her.
She had barely taken two steps away from the safety of the bedroom door when a movement at the far end of the corridor caught her eye.
It was Keifer.
He was walking toward her with a renewed sense of confidence, his hands shoved casually into his pockets.
As their eyes met, he didn't look away or offer a polite nod; instead, he caught her gaze and deliberately...
winked.
The heat returned to Jay's face in an instant, a fresh wave of crimson staining her cheeks.
She quickly looked down at the floor, biting her inner lip to suppress the smile that was fighting to break free.
She tried to maintain her "annoyed" facade, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.
She picked up her pace, heading toward the staircase, but a familiar shadow stretched out beside her.
She didn't need to turn her head to know he was right there, matching her stride perfectly.
"Jay," he said, his voice a low, teasing grin that she could practically hear.
She didn't answer.
She kept her face set in a serious, determined expression, even though her heartbeat was running a race.
She sped up, her floral dress swishing around her knees as she reached the top of the stairs, acting as if she were on a very important mission that didn't involve the handsome man hovering at her shoulder.
Keifer didn't seem bothered by the silent treatment.
If anything, it seemed to fuel his amusement.
He leaned in slightly as they began to descend the stairs, his shoulder almost brushing hers.
He keep teasing her and calling her and she....she keep ignoring him.
As Jay reached the bottom of the stairs, her heart sank.
There was Nicole, sitting at the table in a tight, expensive outfit that hugged her perfectly.
Jay looked down at her own simple floral dress and felt a sharp sting of jealousy.
She looks so... sexy, Jay thought, feeling small and plain in comparison.
She glanced at Keifer.
He was staring at Nicole, his jaw tight and his body stiff. Jay's stomach twisted—she trust him but still....
But Keifer wasn't looking at Nicole with longing; he was looking at her with pure hate.
He was remembering the trap she set the night before.
Then, he caught the look on Jay's face.
He saw the doubt and the hurt in her eyes, and he realized she was feeling insecure again.
He didn't waste a second.
Before Jay could even reach for a chair, Keifer stepped in.
He pulled her chair out for her with a protective, gentle hand.
He waited for her to sit, his touch lingering on her shoulder as if to say, "You're the only one who matters."
Nicole sat across from them, practically vibrating with hunger for drama.
She expected tears, a fight, or at least a cold shoulder between them.
Instead, she got nothing.
Keifer didn't even say "good morning" to her.
He turned his back to Nicole entirely, focusing all his attention on Jay.
He looked at her with a softness that made his mother smile behind her coffee cup.
Jay and Keifer took their seats, both offering a polite "Good morning" to his parents.
Jay had her usual soft, genuine smile, while Keifer gave his father a respectful nod.
However, his greeting to his mother ended in another inevitable eye roll when he caught her giving him that same "I saw someone in your shirt" teasing look from earlier.
Jay sat to Keifer's left, which unfortunately placed her directly across from Nicole.
Nicole didn't waste a second.
She leaned forward, her voice dripping with a fake, honey-sweet tone.
"Good morning, Keifer,"
she said, her eyes searching for any sign of the old connection they once had.
Keifer didn't even flicker an eye in her direction.
It was as if she were made of glass.
Instead, he reached for the platter of pancakes and began carefully serving a stack onto Jay's plate, focused entirely on making sure she had everything she needed.
Sophia arrived at the table just then, her mouth already popping open, ready to deliver a sharp comeback to shut Nicole down.
But before she could speak, Jay beat her to it.
"Good morning, Nicole,"
Jay said.
She didn't look down.
She didn't stutter.
She maintained pure, unwavering eye contact, her head tilted slightly to the side in a way that was both polite and incredibly firm.
It was the look of a woman who knew exactly where she stood.
Mrs. Watson's eyebrows shot up in surprise and secret pride.
Sophia let out a loud, delighted chuckle that she didn't even try to hide.
Keifer's smirk returned, his gaze dropping to Jay's plate as he tried to hide his own impressed grin.
He looked over at Jay, his eyes shining with a proud smile, but all he got in return was an annoyed eye roll as she pointedly focused on her breakfast.
"Wow... changed much," he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with amusement.
Her new-found confidence didn't annoy him at all; it fascinated him.
As Jay went to bring her right hand up from her lap to start eating, Keifer moved faster.
Under the cover of the heavy tablecloth, his hand dove down and captured hers, lacing his fingers through hers before she could pull away.
Jay froze, her heart doing that familiar, frantic dance again.
The tension under the table was unbearable, and Keifer was clearly loving every second of it.
He looked completely relaxed, leaning back in his chair and enjoying his breakfast with his right hand as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
He didn't even look at Jay; he just kept that infuriating, faint smirk on his lips.
Jay gave her hand another desperate tug, but his grip was like iron.
Realizing she had no other choice, she let out a tiny, defeated huff and picked up her fork with her left hand.
Her movements were awkward and slow.
She kept her head down, her hair falling forward to hide her flaming red cheeks, focusing entirely on a single piece of pancake.
"Jay, dear?" Mrs. Watson's voice broke through the quiet clinking of silverware.
"What happened? I didn't know you were left-handed."
Jay's heart skipped a beat.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a split second before looking up with a shy, embarrassed smile.
"Umm... Mom... it's just... I just wanted to try something new, you know?"
she stammered, her voice small. She quickly looked back at her plate, her fork trembling.
Sophia leaned back, a knowing glint in her eyes.
She let out a long, dramatic sigh.
"I wonder if I could learn to eat with my left hand like Jay," she teased.
Keifer let out a low, dark chuckle, while Jay shot her a quick "death glare" that said,
I'm going to kill you later.
After a few minutes, Jay finally started to get the hang of it.
She was actually managing to eat a bit more comfortably when she felt the pressure of his hand change.
Keifer again felt an itch in his hand watching her feeling comfortable, now he wasn't just holding her hand anymore.
Slowly, his fingers began to move.
He started sliding his hand upward, his touch light and teasing as his fingers trailed up toward her elbow, then back down to her wrist—keeping the movement strictly beneath the table where no one could see.
A sharp shiver raced up Jay's spine, making her shoulders jump.
Her skin felt like it was on fire wherever he touched.
She turned her head toward him, her eyes wide and pleading, and leaned in close to his ear.
"Keifer..." she whispered, her voice a desperate, shaky plea for him to stop before she lost her mind entirely.
Hey buddies, how r u and this chapter.
I hope u like it 😄.