The cardboard box sat open between them on the couch, steam rising off the still-greasy slices. Emily tugged at the corner of her jeans as she folded one in half, cheese stretching before she took a bite. Tomorrow, she would finally be nineteen. Sitting there in an old t-shirt and denim that had seen better days, she felt really excited.

Beside her, Tyler lounged with one leg pulled up, his own shirt rumpled from the day. At twenty, he had a lazy confidence about him, the kind that made it feel like he’d already figured out how to claim his space in the world.

The only one not content was Max, their golden lab, who had stationed himself directly in front of the coffee table. His nose hovered inches from the box, tail thumping every time a slice moved in their hands. Emily laughed, nudging the dog with her foot.

“Not happening, buddy. Pepperoni’s not for you.”

Tyler smirked, chewing. “You spoil him too much. One look from those eyes and you’re ready to give him the whole pie.”

She shot him a playful glare, brushing a strand of hair back. Emily pulled another slice from the box and dangled it just out of Max’s reach. “See? He’s patient. Unlike you.”

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Patient? He’s been staring at us like a creep for fifteen minutes. I’m basically a saint compared to him.”

She laughed, nearly dropping her slice. “A saint? Please. You polished off three pieces before I’d even opened my soda.”

“That’s called efficiency.” He leaned a little closer, voice dropping mock-seriously. “Survival instinct. You hesitate, you starve.”

Emily rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed with heat. “You’d wrestle a girl over pizza?”

“Depends on the girl.” His grin was sharp, but his eyes softened when they met hers. “Some things are worth the risk.”

Her stomach fluttered, though she tried to hide it by tossing her crust toward Max, who snatched it happily. “Cheater,” she muttered, and Tyler’s laugh rumbled low in his chest.

“Not cheating. Strategy.” He wiped his fingers on a napkin, then nudged her knee with his. “Don’t tell me you’re scared to play a little rough.”

Emily smirked, nudging Tyler’s leg with her own. “You know, for all your bragging, you never talk about those wrestling competition uniforms.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “What about them?”

“Maybe the part where you parade around in front of crowds in that tight little singlet.” She grinned, delighting in the way color rose at his ears. “Bet you only joined the team to show off.”



Tyler leaned back with a laugh. “Please. You’re the one who came to every match. Don’t pretend you weren’t just there for the guys in spandex.”

Her heart gave a tiny jolt. “Maybe I liked the attention,” she said, tilting her chin.

“Oh, so you liked being flirted with?” His grin widened. “Funny. I don’t remember anyone flirting with a girl who’s got…” He flicked his eyes downward with a smirk. “…tiny boobs.”

Emily gasped, half-offended, half-thrilled by the jab. Heat rose in her face as she sat straighter. “Excuse me? My boobs are perfect.”

“Prove it.”

The words landed like a spark in dry grass, igniting something wild in her. For a heartbeat, she thought he was only joking. But the challenge in his eyes made her pulse quicken. Naughty, reckless excitement curled through her chest.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Emily caught the hem of her t-shirt and tugged it up over her head in one quick motion. She tossed it aside, leaving herself bare from the waist up.

Cool air kissed her skin, and the weight of his stare made her whole body buzz. A flush spread down her neck, not just from embarrassment but from the bold, delicious thrill of doing something so shameless. Her nipples tightened in the open air, and she pressed her thighs together as a wave of arousal left her lightheaded.

“Happy now?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended, betraying just how much the moment had gotten to her.

Tyler’s mouth opened, then closed again, his eyes darting anywhere but directly at her chest. The tips of his ears went bright red. Emily leaned back against the couch cushions, pretending to be perfectly casual while her pulse hammered. “What’s wrong? Can’t look at perfection when it’s right in front of you?”

“I’m being polite,” he muttered, grabbing another slice of pizza. “You’d probably accuse me of staring.”

She gave a wicked smile. “Oh, so you admit they’re worth staring at?”

He shook his head, smirking despite himself. “Don’t get cocky. I’ve seen bigger.”

Emily laughed, snatching a napkin from the table and tossing it at him. “Size isn’t everything, genius. It’s about shape, balance, symmetry.” She gave her shoulders a little roll that made her breasts shift just enough to catch his eye before he snapped his gaze back to the pizza box.

Before she could push him further, Max chose that moment to shove his nose into the open box. “Hey!” Emily yelped, leaning forward to tug the dog back by his collar. Grease smudged the cardboard where his nose had nearly buried itself in the pepperoni.

Tyler chuckled. “Guess even Max thinks your boobs aren’t the main attraction tonight.”

Emily shot him a glare, cheeks hot. “You’re just jealous he’s getting more attention than you are.”

“Please,” he said, leaning back with a grin. “If I wanted something, I’d just take it.”

She raised a brow, heart skipping. “Oh yeah? Then why are you still pretending not to look at me?”

That shut him up for a second, his jaw working as though searching for the right comeback. His silence was almost as satisfying as the heat prickling low in her belly.

Tyler finally tore his gaze from the pizza box and let it settle on her face, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was holding something back. “Alright, fine. Maybe your boobs are… okay.” His eyes flicked down for the briefest moment before snapping up again. “But let’s be honest—the rest of you probably isn’t worth the attention.”

Emily let out a scoff that was half laugh, half gasp. Max thumped his tail against her thigh, and she absently scratched behind his ears while narrowing her eyes at Tyler. “Says the guy who wouldn’t know what to do with a naked woman if one fell into his lap.”

He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, smirk widening. “Bold words. I could make any woman climax with nothing but my tongue.”

Her pulse skipped.