
Layla had always believed temptation came dressed like danger — dark, unfamiliar, and clearly marked with warning signs.
But that summer, temptation came in familiar faces.
It wore Ethan's easy smile, Julian's sharp gaze, and Clara's slow, knowing touch on Layla's arm.
She'd laughed with them for years, shared dinners, backyard drinks, and secret jokes nobody else understood.
But lately, something in the air between them had shifted — charged, like the pause before a summer storm.
A look that lasted too long. A touch that lingered an extra heartbeat.
A whispered "I missed you" that somehow felt heavier than friendship.
And maybe she shouldn't have worn the silk dress that clung to her hips that night.
Maybe she shouldn't have noticed how Julian's gaze slid over her, or how Ethan's hand brushed her lower back like it belonged there.
But she had noticed.
And by the end of the night, she wouldn't just be wondering what if.
She'd be tasting the answer.
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