Only his

Ch20

Nobody's POV

The city was quiet in the way only a post-midnight hour could be—lights from the skyline smeared across the car windows like oil paintings in motion. Inside Drew's black SUV, soft music played from the speakers, but nobody said much. They were all exhausted.

Drew gripped the wheel with one hand, resting his elbow against the center console. His jaw was tight, eyes locked on the road, while Ethan scrolled through his phone in the passenger seat. Gwenda sat behind him, leaned slightly against the window, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the charm on her bracelet.

Karen sat alone in the third row, curled up in the seat with her knees drawn to her chest. Her cheek was pressed against the glass, her eyes fluttering shut every few seconds. She didn't even realize when the car slowed or when the familiar road to Ethan and Gwenda's house came into view.

Drew pulled into the long driveway, the tires crunching against gravel. The porch light clicked on automatically.

"Alright, y'all," Drew said, glancing in the rearview.

Ethan opened his door. "Appreciate the ride, bro."

Gwenda leaned over the seat, rubbing Karen's shoulder gently. "See you soon, girl."

Karen barely nodded, half-asleep.

Drew watched them disappear behind the front door before shifting gears and pulling away.

⸻

By the time they reached the Sheard mansion, Karen was out cold. Not light sleep—dead to the world kind of sleep.

Drew parked in front of the house, stepped out, and quietly opened the back door. She didn't even stir.

"Baby," he whispered, brushing a knuckle across her cheek.

Nothing.

He smirked to himself and shook his head. "You somethin' else."

Then, without hesitation, he scooped her into his arms.

Carrying her inside, the motion-sensor lights clicked on, lighting the grand marble foyer in a soft, golden glow. The place was silent—no guards talking, no maids in sight, just the echo of Drew's footsteps against polished floors.

Up the stairs, down the hall, through the double doors of their bedroom—he laid her gently across the bed, taking care not to wake her.

She exhaled softly, body curling on instinct toward the warmth of the blankets.

Drew walked to her dresser, pulled out a silk nightgown, and turned back toward her. As he began unzipping her dress, her eyelids fluttered open.

"Mm," Karen murmured, not fully alert but aware.

"You up now?" Drew asked, half-smiling as he held the gown out.

She sat up slowly, took the clothes from his hand without a word, and padded toward the bathroom. Drew followed without hesitation.

The steam hit them first—thick and warm, swirling up from the tiles like a dream. The shower ran hot, fogging the mirrors and calming their bodies. No words passed between them as they moved in tandem—washing, rinsing, breathing in sync. It wasn't sexual. It was intimate in a different way... a quiet understanding.

⸻

Karen's POV

The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, bathing the room in a soft amber glow.

I woke up before Drew for once. He was still out cold, one hand resting near where I had just been lying. I tiptoed across the room, not wanting to wake him, and slid into the closet to grab something comfortable—a flowy tee, leggings, and fuzzy slippers.