Rachel “Rey” Williams has spent years keeping her life simple: stay quiet, stay steady, keep your heart out of reach. As the personal assistant to actress Jessica Tyler, she’s mastered the art of control: managing chaos while never letting anyone get too close.
Jessica, by contrast, lives in the spotlight. She’s charming, brilliant, and impossible to pin down. Beneath the flawless smile, though, lies a loneliness she’s never quite let anyone see, until Rey walks into her life and quietly becomes the one person she can trust.
What starts as flirtation threaded through hectic schedules slowly becomes something deeper: shared late nights, unexpected tenderness, and the kind of trust neither expected to find. But when desire finally collides with old fears, they’ll have to choose between what’s safe and what’s real.
Outside, the rain had turned violent. It slapped against the windows in sheets, punctuated by the occasional low grumble of thunder.
Rey looked up from her stack, frowning slightly.
“I was planning to go home tonight,” she murmured, more to herself than anything.
Jessica glanced at her, then at the storm outside. “Something on your mind?”
Rey bit her lip. “My plants. My mail. Just ... stuff.”
Jessica watched her for a beat too long. “Something,” she said softly. “Or someone?”
Rey’s smile faltered. She looked down. “It’s difficult to ... just move on, you know?”
“I know.”
Jessica cleared her throat. “Wanna watch a movie?”
Rey opened her mouth to say no. She had meant to leave. She hadn’t packed to stay. She’d told herself tonight wouldn’t be a sleepover. But Jessica wasn’t asking for a movie. Not really; she was offering a distraction. A way out.
Rey nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Something light? Rom-com?”
They did not, in fact, watch a rom-com.
They watched The Hills Have Eyes: a mid-2000s horror classic with exactly zero chill and one hundred percent mutated cannibal energy.
Rey spent more time under the blanket than over it, clutching it to her chest, eyes wide, yelling at the screen every five minutes. Jessica, on the other hand, was thriving -- curled up with a bowl of popcorn, cackling at Rey’s suffering.
As the end credits rolled, Rey glared at Jessica, still buried up to her chin in the blanket. “I trusted you with movie night,” she muttered darkly.
Jessica grinned, nudging her shoulder. “You get to choose next time.”
They got up, stretching out the tension from two hours of near-heart attacks, and began getting ready for bed.
“You think there are any hill people nearby?” Rey muttered suspiciously as they passed the tall windows on the way to their rooms.
Jessica didn’t even blink. “Probably. Did you know this house was built on an old burial ground?”
Rey stopped mid-step. “You’re joking.”
Jessica shrugged, enjoying the situation way too much. “Who knows. I guess we’ll find out around three in the morning.”
A little while later, just as Jessica had settled under the covers, brushing hair out of her face and flipping through her texts, there was a soft knock at the door before it opened. She looked up.
“Rey?”
“You don’t actually expect me to sleep in my own room tonight, do you?”
“I --”
“If any hill people show up, I’m shoving you at them first. No hesitation.”
Jessica laughed. “That’s comforting.”
Rey pushed the door open and walked in like she owned the place, which, at this point, she practically did. She was already halfway across the room before Jessica could object.
“I wasn’t asking, Ms. Tyler. Shirt on. Please.”
Jessica blinked. “You’re bossy when you’re scared.”
Rey tossed her a pillow, then climbed into bed with military efficiency.
Jessica watched her settle in; propped up, calm and far too smug for someone who had screamed like a banshee an hour ago.
“Which side do you sleep on? Actually, don’t bother. I once found you on the floor.”
Jessica groaned, burying her face in the blanket. “That was once.”
“You were face down. Snoring into the carpet.”
“One time!”
“Uh-huh,” Rey said as she began methodically stacking pillows between them.
Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Eh -- what’s this?”
“For safety,” Rey replied matter-of-factly.
Jessica raised an eyebrow. “From the hill people?”
“No. You.”
Jessica let out a warm laugh. “Fine, fair enough.”
Jessica did, admittedly, have an alarming number of pillows, and soon Rey had built a surprisingly robust wall down the middle of the bed. She watched in mild disbelief as Rey laid back with a satisfied sigh, her wall complete.
“Goodnight, Rey.”
“Goodnight, Ms. Tyler.”
The room fell into that deep, late-night stillness. The rain had since long faded, the house was now quiet except for the faint hum of distant air vents and the occasional creak of old wood settling.
Jessica was half-asleep when she heard it. Soft. Ragged. The unmistakable sound of someone trying not to cry.
“Hey, sweetie,” she said gently. “You okay?”
