"If you're into it, you can wear it too," I told him casually.
He smiled and let go of me, his lips brushing against my cheek as he pulled away, though I couldn't quite tell if it was intentional. What I was sure of was the way he looked at me—his gaze was sharper, almost unsettling.
I'd heard on the radio that maid uniforms and those worn in service jobs could stir up a primal urge in some people. It was a low desire, they said. But at my age, such looks just made me feel shy.
It's just the hormones of adolescence, I thought. So many girls get swept up by them.
"I'm heading out," I said to Dylan, then, after setting the dinner plates, I quickly darted out of his sight and made my way to the third floor.
The third floor housed both Dylan's and Declan's bedrooms. I was desperate to gra
