The door clicked shut behind them, and the sound settled into the quiet of the apartment like a period at the end of a long sentence. Riley stood just inside the threshold, still carrying the weight of the house on Maple Street in his chest—the smell of fresh paint, the echo of Jasmine's laughter, the impossible fact of a signature that made six futures a little more real. The evening light came through the window in long orange slices, catching the monstera's broad leaves and turning them almost gold.

Inde's hand found his. Warm, callused, certain. Her fingers laced through his without hesitation, and he felt the day's accumulated tension start to drain out of him through that single point of contact.

"Hey," she said, soft.

"Hey."

Jessica's chin settled on his shoulder from behind, her arms looping around his waist, her breath warm against his neck. "You're thinking too loud," she murmured. "I can hear it from here."

"Just—" He stopped. Tried to find the words. "It's real. The house. All of it."

"It's been real for a while," Inde said. Her thumb traced a slow circle on the back of his hand. "You just signed the paperwork."

"I know. I just—" He huffed a quiet laugh. "I keep waiting for someone to tell me I misread the whole thing."

Jessica tightened her arms around him. "No one's going to tell you that."

"The house is ours," Inde added. "We're going to pick up the keys tomorrow. And tonight—"

She pulled back, and the shift in her expression caught him off guard. Her dark eyes had gone serious, focused, the way they got when she was about to say something she'd been holding for a while.

"We have something planned," she said.

Riley blinked. "Planned?"

"Mm-hmm." Jessica's fingers traced down his chest, slow and deliberate, her smile soft and knowing. "You've been carrying a lot. The house, the move, all of it. We thought—"

"We thought you deserved a night off," Inde finished. "From thinking. From planning. From being the one who holds everything together."

His breath caught somewhere in his throat. "I don't—"

"You do," Inde said quietly. "You always do. You're the one who makes sure everyone's okay. Who stops counting to ten. Who signs the contract and makes the future real." She stepped closer, her hand still in his. "Tonight, we want to take care of you."

The words landed somewhere deep in his chest, warm and unfamiliar. He wasn't used to being the one who got taken care of. He was the one who hunched his shoulders, who made himself small, who counted to ten every morning just to brace for the possibility that everything he loved would be gone when he opened his eyes.

But Inde was looking at him like he was worth looking at. And Jessica was pressed against his back, her breath warm on his neck, her fingers still tracing slow patterns through his shirt, her breasts and nipples pinned against his blindside.

"Okay," he said, and his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. "Okay."

Inde's mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile—softer, more private. She tugged his hand gently, leading him away from the doorway, deeper into the apartment. Jessica fell into step beside him, her arm sliding through his, her hip brushing against his as they walked.

The living room was the same as it always was—the old couch, the stack of boxes still taped near the wall, the monstera catching the last of the evening light. But there was something different in the air tonight. A charge. A current running just beneath the surface of the ordinary.

They stopped in the middle of the room, and Riley realized he was standing in the exact spot where everything had started. Where Inde had pressed her hand to his chest and claimed something he hadn't known he was offering. Where Jessica had told him he was home.

"This room," he said, almost to himself.

"Hmm?" Inde tilted her head, that familiar gesture of surprise.

"This is where—" He stopped, swallowed. "This is where it all became real. Where I stopped being alone."

Jessica's hand found his jaw, turning his face toward hers. Her dark eyes were soft, unguarded, the way they only got when it was just the three of them. "You haven't been alone for a long time," she said. "You just didn't know it yet."

Inde stepped closer, her hand settling on his chest, right over his heart. The weight of it was familiar now, grounding. "We're not going anywhere," she said. "Tonight. Tomorrow. The house. All of it."

His throat tightened. He wanted to say something—something about how much this meant, how he still couldn't quite believe it was real, how every morning he still counted to ten and every morning they were still there. But the words wouldn't come. They never did when it mattered most.

Jessica's thumb brushed across his cheek, catching something he hadn't realized was wet. "Hey," she said softly. "None of that. Not tonight."

"I'm not—" He laughed, a broken sound. "I don't know why I'm—"

"Because you feel things," Inde said simply. "Because you're good at feeling things and bad at saying them. We know." Her hand slid from his chest to his belt, fingers hooking gently around the leather. "So tonight, you don't have to say anything."

Jessica's lips brushed his ear, her voice dropping to something low and warm. "You just have to let us take care of you."

The air thickened. Riley felt it shift around them, felt the charge in the room turn from something ambient to something pointed, something aimed directly at him. Inde's fingers were still hooked in his belt, light but deliberate. Jessica's hand had found the back of his neck, her thumb tracing small circles at the base of his skull.

"We've been thinking about this all day," Jessica murmured. "Since we signed the papers. Since we walked out of that house and you looked at us like you couldn't quite believe it was real."

"You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop," Inde said. "We want to show you that it's not going to."

Riley's breath came shallow. His hands hung at his sides, unsure where to go, what to do with the weight of being wanted this openly, this deliberately. "I don't—"

"You don't have to do anything," Inde said. "That's the point."

Jessica's lips traced the shell of his ear. "Just be here. With us. Let us show you what you've been missing."

Inde tugged gently on his belt, a question in the gesture. Her dark eyes held his, serious and soft at once. "Is this okay?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Words," Inde said quietly. "I need words."

"Yes," he managed. "This is—yes. More than okay."

Her mouth curved, that private almost-smile again. "Good."

She tugged again, and this time he followed, his feet moving of their own accord. Jessica's hand slid from his neck to his shoulder, guiding him, and together they moved through the living room toward the hallway that led to the bedroom.

His heart hammered against his ribs. The bedroom door was closed, but there was a sliver of warm light beneath it—candlelight, he realized, not the harsh overhead bulb. The sight of it made something twist in his chest, something sweet and aching.

Inde paused at the door, her hand on the knob. She looked back at him, and in the dim light of the hallway her face was all soft shadows and serious eyes.

"We love you," she said. "We want you to feel that. All of it. Tonight."

"No counting," Jessica added softly from behind him. "No waiting for the other shoe. Just us."

Riley's throat was too tight to speak. He nodded, and Inde's expression softened into something almost tender.

She pushed the door open.

The bedroom was transformed. The new bed was made with fresh sheets—white, crisp, a little starchy from the wash. A single candle flickered on the nightstand, casting a low golden glow across the room, making the shadows dance along the walls. The ceiling fan turned slowly overhead, stirring the warm air, carrying the faint scent of something clean and floral.

Riley stood in the doorway, taking it in. The room that had held their beginning—the too-small mattress, the tangled sheets, the lamp that burned all night—was gone. In its place was something deliberate. Something planned. Something that had been thought about, prepared, arranged with care.

For him.

Inde's hand found his again, warm and grounding. Jessica stepped past him into the room, her fingers trailing along his arm as she moved, leaving a line of goosebumps in her wake.

"You like it?" Jessica asked, turning to face him. The candlelight caught her features, softening the sharp elegance of her face, making her look younger, more open.

"It's—" He stopped. Swallowed. "You did all this?"

"We did it together," Inde said. "While you were still asleep this morning. Jessica went out for the sheets. I found the candle in the back of the closet."

"The one you bought for the cabin and never used," Jessica added.

"It felt like the right time." Inde stepped closer to him, her hand settling on his chest again, over his heart. "Tonight's about you, Riley. About us. About what we're building."

Jessica came to his other side, her arm sliding around his waist, her head tilting to rest against his shoulder. "You've been holding your breath for so long," she said softly. "We want to watch you let it out."

Riley's chest ached. Not with pain—with something fuller, something that pressed against his ribs from the inside, demanding to be felt. He'd spent so long making himself small, taking up less space, waiting for the moment when everything would be taken away. But here, in this room, with these two women, he didn't feel small. He felt seen.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted.

"You don't have to say anything," Inde reminded him. Her fingers traced the edge of his jaw, tilting his face toward hers. "Just be here."

She kissed him then—soft, slow, deliberate. Her lips moved against his like she had all the time in the world, like there was nowhere else she needed to be. Riley's eyes fluttered closed, and he let himself sink into it, let himself be held by the warmth of her mouth, the press of her body against his.

Jessica's lips found his neck, trailing soft kisses along the column of his throat. Her hands slid under his shirt, palms flat against his stomach, warm and sure. He shivered at the contact, a low sound escaping his throat.

"That's it," Jessica murmured against his skin. "Let go."

Inde pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "We've got you," she said. "All night. Just let us."

Riley's breath came shaky. "Okay," he managed. "Okay."

Inde's hand moved to his belt, her fingers working the buckle with deliberate slowness. Jessica's hands slid higher, tracing the lines of his chest, her thumbs brushing over his nipples in a way that made his hips shift forward involuntarily.

"Easy," Inde murmured, a hint of a smile in her voice. "We're not going anywhere."

The belt came undone. Jessica's lips found his ear again, her voice a warm whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. "We've been thinking about this all day. About getting you out of these clothes. About watching you fall apart for us."

Riley's hands found their hips, gripping lightly, needing something to hold onto. "You're going to kill me," he breathed.

"Not tonight," Inde said. "Tonight we're going to take care of you."

Jessica's hands slid down his chest, over his stomach, coming to rest at the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers hooked into the fabric, tugging gently. "Can we?"

He nodded, throat too tight for words.

"Words," Inde reminded him again, her voice gentle but firm.

"Yes," he managed. "Please."

Jessica's smile was soft and knowing. She pushed his jeans down over his hips, and Riley stepped out of them, standing in the middle of the candlelit room in just his boxers, feeling more exposed than he had in months. But neither of them looked away. Neither of them laughed. They just looked at him like he was something precious, something worth taking their time with.

Inde's hand found his, tugging him toward the bed. The sheets were cool against his skin as he sat down on the edge, the candle flickering on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the room.

Jessica knelt in front of him, her hands on his knees, her dark eyes lifted to his. "You're beautiful," she said simply. "You know that?"

He shook his head, a broken laugh escaping him. "I'm not—"

"You are," Inde said, settling beside him on the bed, her hand finding the back of his neck. "You're beautiful, and you're ours, and tonight we're going to show you what that means."

Jessica's hands slid up his thighs, slow and deliberate, her thumbs tracing circles on the sensitive skin just above his knees. "Just relax," she murmured. "Let us take care of everything."

Riley let out a shaky breath, his head falling forward, his forehead pressing against Inde's shoulder. Her hand carded through his hair, gentle and grounding, while Jessica's hands continued their slow, patient exploration of his legs.

"That's it," Inde whispered. "Just breathe."

He did. He breathed. And for the first time in longer than he could remember, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, the other shoe wasn't going to drop.

Maybe this—all of this—was real.

And maybe he was allowed to have it.