His Place

She held his hand the whole walk back.

Not in a casual, fingers-laced sort of way. No—Chloe clung to his arm like she was finally living out a fantasy she'd been carrying in her heart for years. She hummed to herself while they walked, glancing up at him with stars in her eyes every few steps, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Jason, for his part, was somewhere between dazed and giddy. He still didn't know if this was reality or a dream brought on by caffeine and self-delusion. But her hand was warm, and her perfume was sweet, and her smile? That was real.

At least... he thought it was.

"Okay," he said as they reached his apartment door. "Full disclosure: it's small, it's old, and the radiator makes weird clicking noises like it's receiving a signal from another planet. Please don't judge."

She bounced on her toes beside him, eyes wide.

"Are you kidding? I've literally imagined this moment like a hundred times."

Jason blinked.

"You have?"

"Of course, silly!" she giggled. "Ever since I saw you walk into the café that first time. I'd always try to guess what your place would be like. Would it be tidy? Would it smell good? Would you have, like, mysterious stacks of books? Ugh—this is such a dream."

He blinked again. Then turned and unlocked the door.

She stepped inside like she was entering a sacred space.

"Oh my gosh," she whispered, spinning slowly in the doorway. "This is so you."

Jason looked around. His coat was on the floor. A lone sock draped dramatically off the couch arm. His "stack of mysterious books" was really just three half-read paperbacks and a fantasy novel with a dragon on the cover.

"Uh, thanks?" he said, trying to discreetly kick the sock under the couch.

But she didn't notice. Or didn't care. She was too busy swooning.

"You hang your keys there?" she asked, pointing to the hook. "That's so practical. And your couch—wait, is this where you watch TV?"

He nodded, amused.

She sat right down, pulled her feet up, and hugged one of his throw pillows to her chest like it was a teddy bear, taking a long sniff of it, enjoying the scent.

Jason stood awkwardly nearby.

"I've got water, or, uh, sparkling water, or oat milk," he offered. "There's just about a shot of vodka left in the bottle if you're feeling dangerous."

She giggled. "I'm already tipsy on you."

Jason choked on his own saliva. "I—uh—"

Chloe patted the spot next to her. "Come sit with me, babe."

Babe. She called him babe. His brain short-circuited a little, but he sat.

She leaned into him instantly, curling her legs under herself and tucking her head against his shoulder.

Jason looked down at her. "You're really, uh, comfortable here."

She looked up, all sparkles. "Of course I am. I feel safe with you. Like I'm supposed to be here."

She reached up and gently touched his cheek. Then her thumb brushed his lips.

"I love that colour on you," she whispered. "It makes your eyes look so dreamy."

Jason flushed. "Thanks. I, uh… thought it looked familiar. It's the same one you wear, right?"

Her smile turned positively luminous. "I know. I noticed earlier. I thought, Oh my gosh, we match. That's fate."

She kissed him softly on the lips—slow, sweet, and lingering.

When she pulled back, her lipstick was just slightly smudged, and so was his. She giggled.

"Now we both have it twice," she said. "Like soulmates, but with lip gloss."

Jason didn’t know if he was hallucinating, dead, or in the middle of some cosmic accident, but he really hoped it never ended.

Chloe turned her body and swung a leg over his lap, settling there like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Comfy," she whispered, twirling a bit of his hair around her finger. "Strong thighs. Told you you were my dreamboat."

He stared at her, pulse racing. "You're really into this."

She nodded solemnly. "You. I am so into you it's actually stupid. I don't even remember what it was like to not be obsessed with you."

Jason laughed nervously. "That's not alarming at all."

She leaned forward, nose brushing his. "I'm serious," she breathed. "I want to kiss you until my lips go numb. I want to fall asleep on your chest and steal your T-shirts and make breakfast in your kitchen. I want to keep your house clean and have your babies and make you so happy. Like, that's just what a girl's supposed to do, right?"

Jason tried to answer. He really did.

But just then, the old couch groaned like a haunted accordion and let out a high-pitched creak directly beneath them. Then they shook as one leg collapsed, causing Chloe to press her groin into Jason's throbbing erection.

They both froze.

Chloe's eyes widened. Jason burst into laughter.

"Oh my god," she said, hands flying to her mouth. "Your couch is such a perv!"

They collapsed into giggles, Chloe snorting once as she half-fell against him.

Jason was still laughing when she whispered into his ear, voice soft and full of promise:

"I meant every word, by the way. You don't even know what I'm ready to do for you tonight. But I think you're about to find out."

Jason’s breath caught.

Chloe kissed his neck. Then his jaw. Then slowly worked her way back to his lips, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

The couch creaked again. Neither of noticed.