It was barely noon, but the July sun had already turned the air thick and heavy, the kind of heat that clung to skin and made everything move a little slower. Claire was two weeks into helping Henry around his place, scrubbing down patio furniture, organizing tools in his garage, wiping the dust off windows he never bothered to open. It was supposed to be a simple favor for her dad. Henry played poker with him on Thursday...

Claire glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand. 1:54 a.m. She laughed softly. And then—from the other side of the wall—another sound filtered through. The unmistakable creak of a bedframe. A breathless gasp. Then Amy’s voice, muffled but unmistakable, “Harder— oh my God, Sarah—” Claire slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle. Henry chuckled low in his chest. “Thin walls,” he murmured, pulling her closer. “...

It had been a week since that night at Claire’s. Well—technically, since that morning. The sun had already started slipping through the kitchen blinds when Claire and Henry and Sarah and Amy walked in, both looking flushed and rumpled, wearing each other’s clothes and smug grins. Emily and Jessica were still catching their breath on the couch, legs tangled and flushed from hours tangled with Ron. No one was shocked. No on...

Eventually, the cool air began to cling to their damp skin, and Emily gave a soft shiver as she pressed closer to Ron’s chest. “Alright,” he murmured, dropping a kiss into her hair. “Let’s take this inside before one of you catches a chill—and I’m not done feeding you yet.” They gathered themselves with lazy smiles and tangled limbs, still completely bare and unbothered as they wandered into the house. The girls didn’t ev...