He opened the door wearing a button-down shirt and tired eyes.
“Hey, Mr. Harris,” I said, smiling just a little too sweetly.
He glanced at the clock. “You’re early.”
“I know.” I stepped in past him anyway, brushing close enough to let my arm graze his. “I like being early.”
His jaw tensed. “Kids are upstairs. TV time until eight. Then lights out.”
I nodded, setting my bag down on the entryway bench. “Got it. You heading somewhere fun tonight?”
He didn’t answer. Just grabbed his keys and wallet. “Call me if there’s an emergency.”
That was it. No thank you. No goodbye. No glance back at the way my tank top clung to my chest or how my shorts were so tight they may as well have been underwear.
But I’d seen the flicker in his eyes when I leaned into the doorframe.
He noticed.
Mr. Harr
