Emma Morgan stood in front of her bedroom mirror, brushing out the tangles in her long auburn hair.
It had been days, tension clung to her like a second skin, the memory of Jefferson's brazen display still flickering in her mind.
She had changed into her favorite sleepwear—a soft tank top that hugged her C-cup breasts and loose shorts that rode up her toned thighs from years of college track.
Her body was athletic yet curvy in all the right places, a fact she usually ignored but tonight felt hyper-aware of.
The house was quiet now, She glanced at the clock on her nightstand: 10:15 PM. Late for a school night back in the day, but holidays blurred the lines.
A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. "Em? You still up?" Justin's voice, muffled but casual.
She sighed, setting
