Chapter 9: Curious Flames

(Eden’s POV)

That night, the house was quiet.

Harper had gone to bed hours ago, wedding magazines sprawled across her comforter like battlefield debris. I’d claimed the guest room again, showered the day away, and curled beneath the crisp sheets with my phone in hand—screen still black.

No reply.

Maybe it was a joke. Some drunk idiot from the party. Or a wrong number. Or Levi. Or Luca.

Stop.

I was overthinking it. Letting one bold text live rent-free in my mind just because it said the exact thing I’d never been brave enough to say out loud.

But then—

Buzz.

I sat up so fast the sheet tangled around my legs.

Unknown:

Still thinking about it?

My heart kicked. The message stared back at me, pulsing like a dare.

Me:

Thinking about what?

Unknown:

Your fantasy. You haven’t answered me.

I swallowed hard.

Me:

Maybe because I don’t know who I’m talking to.

Unknown:

Does it matter?

Me:

Yes.

Unknown:

Then pretend I’m just a voice in your head. One that already knows the things you won’t say out loud.

My thumbs hovered.

They were right.

I did know. I just didn’t say it. Not to anyone. Not even myself, not really.

Me:

Why do you want to know?

Unknown:

Because I’ve been wondering if you’d ever be brave enough to admit it.

Silence stretched around me, thick and heavy.

Unknown:

So tell me, Eden…

What’s your fantasy?

⸻

I didn’t reply.

Not with words.

Instead, I slipped the phone under my pillow, turned out the light, and let my breath slow. But sleep didn’t come easily. The question pulsed behind my eyelids, vibrating through every cell like a drumbeat.

And when sleep finally did take me, it took me there.

⸻

I was in a room I didn’t recognize—walls draped in soft amber light, shadows dancing across hardwood floors. My dress slid from my shoulders like water, pooling at my feet. I felt weightless, bare.

Hands—warm, strong—found my waist from behind.

One set.

Then another.

I gasped as two bodies pressed against mine, one at my back, one at my front. Their heat surrounded me, familiar but faceless in the haze of the dream. I couldn’t see them, not clearly. Just flashes—hazel eyes, a sharp jaw, a curl of dark hair, a rough thumb brushing the inside of my thigh.

“You’re perfect like this,” one whispered.

“She’s shaking,” the other murmured against my ear. “So sensitive.”

Their mouths explored me like a map they already knew—lips grazing my neck, teeth tugging gently at my shoulder, fingers tracing every inch like they had all the time in the world.

I moaned into the warm dark, my body arching, mind melting.

They didn’t rush.

They worshipped.

And when one slid to his knees, lifting my leg over his shoulder, I gasped—so loud it startled me awake.

⸻

I jolted upright in bed, breath ragged, skin damp.

The room was still. Silent.

But inside me, everything was on fire.

And my phone buzzed again.

Unknown:

Sweet dreams, Eden.