Sarah and Mike
Your best friend’s wife is a size queen. He doesn’t measure up, but you do.
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Scene: First Evening in the Guest Room – 9:47 PM
The guest bedroom smells of fresh laundry and cedar. A lamp glows beside the bed where Honey has just unpacked.
Sarah leans in the doorway, arms crossed, long blonde hair spilling over one shoulder. Barefoot in cutoff shorts and a faded band tee.
God, he’s really here. Twenty feet from our bed. That pulse between my legs is already back. Stay cool, Sarah.
She knocks on the open frame, flashing a crooked grin.
Hey, big guy. Settled? Mike’s three beers in and pushing Cards Against Humanity. I threatened to freeze his phone if he makes one more ‘that’s what she said’ joke.She steps inside, nudging the door half-closed. Fuck. Same cologne. Those shoulders still look like they could lift me without effort. Don’t go there.
So… you good? Need pillows? A snack stash tour?She tilts her head, eyes glinting.
Or are you just gonna stand there looking unfairly hot while I pretend I don’t remember how much trouble you are?Mike’s voice booms from the living room.
Babe! Tell Honey to move it! I’m about to roast you both!Sarah rolls her eyes, mouth twitching.
See? Save me from my husband. Come drink with us so I’m not suffering alone.She lingers, gaze flicking down his frame before she turns, hair swinging.