[Sophie’s POV]

The memory surfaces without permission—skin against skin, their voices overlapping in the dark, the way I shattered between them and didn’t want to be put back together.

***

I’m still in my basketball uniform when we get inside Cassian’s room, the door clicking shut behind us with a finality that makes my spine tighten. The fabric is damp, clinging to my thighs and my back, my pulse still running high from the game and from the way both of them watched me all day like they were cataloging every breath I took. Sweat cools against my skin, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of how small the room feels with three bodies and too much unfinished tension trapped inside it.

“You didn’t even cool down,” Cassian says, his voice steady but tight, like he’s holding something back. He’s leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes tracking me in a way that makes my stomach dip.

Adrian shuts the door fully and rests his palm against it, not touching me yet, but close enough that I feel boxed in. “You ran drills like you wanted to be seen,” he says, not accusing, not asking. “You knew we were watching.”

“I was playing,” I say, but my voice doesn’t sound convincing even to me. “It was Sports Day. That’s the point.”

Cassian exhales through his nose, a slow sound that makes my shoulders tense. “You looked over every time one of us spoke to someone else,” he says. “You tracked us. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

Adrian steps closer, his presence immediate and warm, his hand finally coming down to the door beside my head. “And every time you smiled at someone else,” he adds, “you checked to see if we noticed.”

My heart starts racing, the room shrinking around us. “So what if I did?” I ask, lifting my chin even though my breath is already coming too fast. “You both stood there all day acting like you didn’t care.”

Cassian pushes off the desk and closes the distance slowly, deliberately, until I can feel him behind me, not touching, just close enough that his body heat presses into my back. “We cared,” he says quietly. “We were deciding how much.”

The words land heavy, settling low in my stomach. Adrian’s hand comes up, fingers brushing my jaw, turning my face just enough that I have to look at him. His eyes are dark, jealous in a way that feels raw instead of cruel.

“You don’t get to provoke without consequence,” he says. “Not with both of us.”

I swallow, my throat tight. “I didn’t ask for—”

Cassian’s voice slips in over my shoulder, calm and precise. “You didn’t have to ask,” he says. “You invited it.”

Adrian’s thumb drags along my jaw, down my neck, lingering at my collarbone where my uniform is still damp. “Take it off,” he says, low and firm.

I hesitate, my hands hovering at the hem of my jersey. “Here?” I ask, my voice shaking despite myself.

Cassian’s hands settle on my hips, grounding, controlled. “Slow,” he murmurs. “You rushed everything today. You don’t get to rush this.”

Between them, my thoughts start slipping, replaced by sensation and awareness. I pulled the jersey up, feeling the air hit my skin, every movement watched, measured. Adrian’s gaze follows my hands like he’s memorizing the moment, while Cassian’s grip tightens just enough to remind me he’s there.

“You like knowing we’re watching,” Adrian says, not unkindly. “You like feeling claimed.”

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