I walked into my apartment and heard moaning coming from my roommate’s room. Except… he wasn’t home. And the voice that just said my name wasn’t his.

Okay, throwaway for obvious reasons.
I’ve been living with my best friend’s older brother, Jake, for six months. He’s 29, ridiculously attractive in that quiet, brooding way, and we had a very clear rule: no weirdness. Just two adults splitting rent.
Last Friday I got home early from work. The second I opened the door I heard it — soft, breathy, and very clearly coming from Jake’s room. I froze. He texted me that morning saying he was staying at his parents’ for the weekend.
I should have left.
I didn’t.
I walked closer and that’s when I heard it: my name. Moaned. Like someone was thinking about me while they…
I knocked. The sound stopped immediately. Heart pounding, I said, “Jake…?”
Silence. Then the door opened.
It wasn’t Jake.
It was his identical twin, Tyler. Same face, same height, same everything… except Tyler had this look in his eyes that Jake never did. Like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t entirely sorry about.
He was shirtless. Sweat on his chest. And he just stared at me for a second before saying, real quiet,
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
I should have backed away. Instead I asked the dumbest question of my life:
“Were you… thinking about me?”
He didn’t deny it.
He just stepped closer, still in the doorway, and said, “I’ve been staying here the last three nights while Jake’s gone. And every night I hear you in the shower. The way you hum. The way the water hits your skin. It’s driving me insane.”
The air between us got thick. He was close enough that I could smell his cologne mixed with whatever he’d just been doing. My brain was screaming that this was my best friend’s twin brother and this was so many levels of wrong, but my body was not listening.
He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, fingers barely brushing my neck, and whispered,
“Tell me to stop and I will. But if you don’t…”
I didn’t tell him to stop.
We didn’t even make it to the bed. We barely made it past the doorway. It was frantic and quiet and so intense I forgot how to breathe. At one point he pinned my wrists above my head against the wall and just looked at me like he was memorizing every reaction.
After, we were both on the floor, trying to catch our breath. He laughed under his breath and said, “Jake is going to kill me.”
I said, “Jake can never know.”
He kissed the side of my neck and murmured, “Then we’re going to have a very interesting weekend.”
Jake comes back tomorrow.
And Tyler just texted me:
“Leave your door unlocked tonight.”
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
But I’m not locking it.

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Bimql chhetry.

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