I stayed sandwiched in the middle of Bella and Elara, their bodies were like walls of muscle on either side of me. It should've felt suffocating, but instead I felt... protected. Their warmth pressed in from both sides, their large frames making me feel small and held.
Both of them were laser-focused on the horror movie playing, as if nothing else existed. Bella had gone completely quiet—she looked like she'd buried every part of what happened earlier deep under the surface.
"I like when they show the girl chopping girls' heads off," Elara said casually, scooping a ridiculous amount of popcorn into her mouth. Her tone was light, almost cheerful, like she was commenting on a baking show rather than a decapitation.
I glanced over at Bella—her face was stiff, eyes wide, pupils trembling. She swallowed hard, trying not to let the fear show, but failing miserably. Yeah... that definitely wasn't going to boost her courage to ask about sharing me.
On screen, the killer cornered the protagonist.
"Come with me or I'll kill you..." the villain hissed through the speakers.
The boy collapsed limp on the floor, and the killer bent down, lifting him effortlessly over her shoulder. The camera pulled back slowly, the eerie music intensifying until the title card slammed into view and the screen cut to black.
"Wow, that was a really good movie," Bella exhaled, completely content, wiping her buttery fingers on her jeans like a psychopath.
I stretched my arms above my head, needing to shake off the tension. My back cracked softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Neither of them moved—Elara sat comfortably leaning back, and so was Bella.
"Cook up something for us, won't you, Noah?" Elara asked, voice soft — too soft, like velvet hiding a blade.
I stood up from between them and started walking toward the kitchen. I only got a step away before a sharp crack echoed through the room — Elara's hand slapping hard across my ass. The sting shot up my spine, hot and electric.
I stopped mid-stride and looked back over my shoulder at her, breath caught in my throat. Elara lounged back against the couch cushions, grinning like she owned the world. Bella stared amused.
Instead of flinching away, I let a slow smirk crawl onto my face — subtle but unmistakable. My cheeks burned, not from pain but something deeper, something I couldn't hide even if I tried.
Elara raised a brow, pleased.
"Thought so," she purred.
Then I turned away fully and headed into the kitchen, the sting still burning deliciously under the fabric of my pants, spreading warmth through my whole body. I gripped the counter just to steady myself, pulse hammering.
(Bella pov)
"He's such a cute slut, isn't he?" Elara murmured, voice low and hungry, her eyes glued to the sight to the back of us. "God, I can't wait to fuck him later."
Her teeth sank into her knuckles as she watched Noah move around the stove, wearing a loose apron that swung gently with every step he took. The scent of searing steak filled the house, rich and buttery, and the sound of potatoes crackling against hot oil matched the rapid beat of my heart. It was my favorite meal he made.
But those words.
Did she just ask if I thought he was cute?
Was she inviting me in?
My breath caught, my chest tightening. It felt too unreal, too perfect, like some messed-up fantasy of mine finally bleeding into reality. I pressed my nails into my arm hard enough to sting, trying to wake up — anything to prove this wasn't just another delusion.
"What the hell..." I whispered and pinched myself again sharply.
Pain flared.
Everything stayed the same.
Elara's brows drew together, watching me like she was trying to solve a puzzle. For a second I swore she was about to question me — but then she just shook her head, letting it slide, eyes drifting right back to Noah with that predatory, possessive hunger.
Noah had no idea. He just hummed softly, flipping the steak in the pan, muscles flexing under the apron fabric. Steam rolled upward and brushed across his face, making him glow in the warm kitchen light.
My pulse thundered.
If she really meant what she said... if she's inviting me to share him...
Christ. I might actually die.
"So um, Elara, I've been meaning to ask..."
The words scraped out of my throat as I fidgeted with the zipper on my black leather jacket, pretending to look relaxed. My knee bounced like it had a mind of its own.
"Yeah, sure Bella, what's up?" she asked warmly — too warmly — and god, that made it worse. She was looking at me like she genuinely cared, like she expected something real.
"Well uh... ehm... u—uh..."
The words jammed up. All the confidence I'd rehearsed evaporated. My tongue felt like it was swelling. My brain felt blank, completely empty, like someone wiped it clean with bleach.
Elara tilted her head. "Is this about the job offer? It still stands, don't worry."
She scratched the back of her hand absentmindedly, waiting for me to speak.
"Ah— no, but... I mean— yes..." I stammered, fighting for air. 'God dammit.' I could physically feel the moment slipping through my fingers, slipping through my ribs like smoke. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
I exhaled sharply — surrender.
"Fuck it," I muttered under my breath. "I'll just... do it another time."
Elara smiled softly, like she thought she understood. "Once you drop out, let me know. I'll keep the space for you, I promise."
She looked so genuine. So kind. Like she had absolutely no idea what was really sitting in my throat.
And I just nodded, pretending that was all I wanted to say.
Inside, I felt like screaming.
"Dinner's ready, girls!" Noah called from the dining table, his voice smooth and warm.
God — if I could just pull him into my arms and drown him in love right now, this would've hit so much harder.
Me and Elara walked over. I slipped into the chair right beside him, close enough that our knees brushed. Elara leaned down to press a slow kiss to his cheek before taking the seat across from me — leaving Noah centered between us like he was the sun we orbited. Which he basically was.
"Eat up," he said softly, the corners of his lips lifting into that gentle smile that twisted something deep inside my chest. "Made this with lots of love."
He was already seated, hands folded neatly in his lap as he watched us with anticipation, waiting to see our reactions.
I picked up my fork and knife, cutting into the steak. The blade slid through like it was silk, revealing a perfectly pink, juicy center. Steam lifted up, carrying the scent of seared butter and garlic straight into my face — rich, mouthwatering, almost sinful.
I took a bite.
The flavor exploded instantly — tender, smoky, a hit of pepper and sweetness on the edge that made my eyes flutter shut. My whole mouth tingled, and warmth rolled down my throat like a wave. Holy hell, I had to stop myself from moaning out loud.
"Christ, Noah... I can never get enough of your food. I love you—"
The words slipped out before I could shove them back down my throat.
Holy shit.
No way I just said that out loud.
My heart plummeted straight into my stomach and then rocketed up into my throat all at once. I froze, gripping my fork so tight my knuckles went white. I darted my eyes toward Elara, waiting for... screaming, a threat, her grabbing a knife— something.
But she didn't even flinch.
Elara calmly lifted a forkful of potatoes to her mouth, chewing slowly, her expression unreadable except for the tiny glint of amusement in her eyes. Her hand rested over Noah's, thumb rubbing lazy circles against his skin like nothing unusual happened at all. Like she already knew.
What the fuck was going on?
My chest tightened. I felt lightheaded, hot, dizzy. The world felt like it tilted ten degrees to the left.
Noah looked at me with this soft, kind smile — not startled, not confused, just warm.
"I appreciate it, Bella."
His voice landed like a warm blanket wrapping around my ribs and squeezing.
I swallowed hard. God, if he only knew how badly I meant it. How much I wanted to scream it into his bones. How much I wanted to hold him the way she did.
My hands trembled slightly under the table.
I have to ask her soon. I have to. I want to love him without feeling like I'm stealing him. I want to be allowed to kiss him the way she does, to whisper against his neck, to hold him openly instead of in stolen moments.
I turned my eyes to Elara again, silently studying her, trying to read what she wasn't saying. Her jaw flexed as she chewed, calm and composed. She didn't look threatened. She didn't look jealous.
If anything...
She looked like she was waiting.
Waiting for me to be brave enough.
And that terrified me more than anything.