TA

The beach house was Roy's idea. He sold it as a getaway: salt air, no capes, enough space for all three of them. You knew them well enough to read the tension that had settled into the house — the way Roy leaned too close when he reached past you for a towel, the way Jason's gaze followed every small movement you made, the way neither of them had actually relaxed since you arrived. They wanted you here. Both of them. That was the unspoken underscore beneath every easy grin and every long look out at the water, and the three of you had an entire week to pretend it wasn't the main event.