Just set the phone back down and kept driving.
My house came into view—a restored Victorian with a wraparound porch and iron gates that were custom made.
And standing on that porch, leaning against the railing like she had every right to be there, was Alexis.
I slowed the car.
Stared.
What the fuck?
We’d fucked at her place.
We’d fucked at mine exactly twice—both times when I knew Layla and Syx wouldn’t be there, when I had the house to myself and could control the situation.
But Layla was supposed to cook tonight.
I’d told her I’d be home by seven.
And Alexis was here.
Uninvited.
Unannounced.
Standing on my porch like she belonged there.
I pulled into the driveway and cut the engine.
Sat there for a moment, hands still on the steering wheel, trying to process what I was seeing.
Alexis smiled when she saw me.
Waved.
Like this was normal.
Like showing up at a man’s house without being invited was something people did.
I got out of the car slowly.
Closed the door with a quiet click.
I walked up the porch steps and let the irritation settle somewhere deep where Alexis couldn’t see it.
She was leaning against the railing, smiling like she’d done something clever. Like showing up uninvited was spontaneous and romantic instead of a boundary violation I didn’t have the energy to address.
I forced my face into something warm.
Something that looked like I was happy to see her.
“Hey,” I said, pulling her into a hug.
She melted into me immediately, her arms wrapping around my waist, her face pressed against my chest.
“I missed you,” she said softly.
I didn’t respond to that.
