LOGINSiennaHis hands came up to cradle my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks as his lips moved against mine with a tenderness that made my chest ache. But it didn’t stay tender for long. The ache quickly morphed into a sharp, desperate need. A low groan rumbled in his chest, and his kiss deepened, turning hungry, possessive.My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. I could feel the hard line of his body against mine, the proof of his want pressing into my stomach. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, his eyes dark with a fire I felt sparking deep in my own core.“I need to feel you, Sienna,” he breathed against my mouth, his voice rough. “All of you.”His fingers went to the hem of my top, and he pulled it up and over my head in one swift motion. The cool air hit my skin, raising goosebumps, but his gaze was hot enough to burn them away. He just stared for a moment, drinking me in, before his hands were on my back, unhooking my bra with an expert flick.“You’re so beautiful,
Sienna“Final year,” Kendra said, spinning around in front of the school gates like she owned the world. “We’re officially legends.”I laughed, adjusting my bag. “You’re acting like we’re graduating today.”“We basically are!” she said, flashing her phone to take a selfie. “Smile, Sienna, this is history.”I half-smiled. “You’re crazy.”“Crazy hot,” she said, posing again.The school looked different somehow—same halls, same lockers, same smell of cafeteria coffee—but everything felt heavier. Like every look, every whisper, every step mattered. The last year. The last stretch before… whatever came next.Kendra looped her arm through mine. “Okay, mission one—avoid teachers that still think we’re juniors. Mission two—don’t think about Jaxon.”I froze. “Why would I think about him?”She smirked. “Because you already are. You’ve checked your phone like, ten times.”“I’m waiting for the timetable update,” I lied.“Sure you are.”The bell rang, echoing through the halls. People were hugging
SiennaThe house was quiet — too quiet — except for the ticking wall clock and the hum of the air conditioner. My phone screen glowed faintly under my blanket as Jaxon’s message popped up:Jaxon: Can I come over?My heart skipped a beat. I stared at the message, reading it over and over. Every part of me screamed yes. I typed fast:Me: Come quietly. The door’s not locked.I pressed send, then froze when I heard it — the soft creak of my parents’ bedroom door opening.My stomach dropped. I quickly texted again, hands shaking.Me: Abort. Dad’s awake.I shoved the phone under my pillow, shut my eyes, and turned to my side, pretending to be fast asleep. My heart thudded so loud I was scared it would give me away.Footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway. My dad’s heavy but steady pace. He always had this habit — checking the house before sleeping. Every window, every door.He walked downstairs, the faint sound of the locks clicking as he checked them one by one. I could hear him mutterin
SiennaSunday morning came quiet and pale. The early sun sneaked through my curtains, warming my face just enough to wake me. I stretched under the blanket, hearing faint sounds from down the hall — running water, drawers closing. Jaxon was already up.I slipped out of bed and got ready for church — simple cream dress, light makeup, hair brushed straight. I could already hear my stepmom moving around the house, her heels tapping against the tiles, calling out orders like she always did.“Let’s move, people! We’re leaving in twenty minutes!”The smell of toast and eggs filled the air when I stepped into the hallway — and then I froze.Jaxon was there, standing by the mirror, buttoning his shirt. His hair was still wet, little drops trailing down his neck. For a second, neither of us said a word. His eyes met mine, steady but quiet.“Morning,” he said softly.“Morning,” I whispered back.That was it. Just one word each, but it left my chest tight. I brushed past him quickly, pretending
SiennaThe morning sun filtered through my curtains, casting a pale gold light across my room. I lay still for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, trying to slow the rush of thoughts in my head. It was Saturday — the last weekend before my final year in high school began on Monday — and yet, instead of excitement, all I felt was this tight, quiet tension sitting in my chest.Downstairs, I could already hear faint movement — dishes clinking, the smell of toast, and the soft hum of my stepmom’s morning routine. I got up slowly, brushed my teeth, and threw on a simple top and joggers. When I stepped out into the hallway, I paused by Jaxon’s door. It was closed, but I could hear faint music from inside — low, rhythmic, and familiar. He was awake.Part of me wanted to knock. Just once. Even a small good morning would have been enough. But Dad’s warning echoed in my head.“For the few days Jaxon has before leaving, I don’t want to see you two close. Not even talking.”So I walked past.D
SiennaThe night air was colder than usual, the kind that wrapped around you and made silence feel heavier. I was still in my room, scrolling through Jaxon’s last text, when I heard the sound of a familiar car pulling up outside. My heart dropped immediately.I peeked through the curtain, and there it was — Dad’s car.“Kendra,” I whispered sharply. “He’s here.”Before she could say anything, I was already halfway down the stairs. Mom was just getting up from the couch, confusion on her face. “Who’s that?”“Dad,” I said quietly.He honked twice, short and firm — his usual signal. That sound alone made my chest tighten. I opened the door, and there he was, standing beside the car, one hand in his pocket, the other resting on the door.He didn’t look angry this time. Just... tired. Like he’d run out of ways to express whatever he was feeling.“Good evening, Dad,” I said softly, forcing a small smile.He didn’t respond. His expression didn’t change. “Get in the car,” he said simply.I fro







