Chapter 63: Chapter 63

The doorway swallowed me up as I stepped inside, shutting it carefully behind me. The place smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh laundry—clean, soft, the opposite of the cigarette haze I usually carried around. My shoes clacked lightly against the polished wooden floor as I followed her into the apartment.

Delilah didn’t say much, just walked ahead with that calm, effortless sway in her hips. It was impossible not to notice how her ass moved under those thin house shorts—too damn perfect, too damn deliberate. I dragged my eyes back up, forcing myself to focus on anything else.

The living room opened up in front of me. Bright, airy, with tall windows letting in the morning sun. Beige curtains swayed lazily from the breeze of a half-open window. The couch sat dead center, sleek and modern, with a glass coffee table in front of it—magazines, a small vase of lilies, and a single mug half-filled with tea still steaming faintly. A family photo frame sat on the shelf across from me—Delilah and Ivy smiling together.

Delilah stopped near the couch, gesturing with a graceful sweep of her hand. “Sit.”

I did as told, lowering myself onto the couch. My palms rested nervously on my knees, pretending like I wasn’t fidgeting.

Delilah eased herself into the armchair across, legs folding one over the other. Her calf slid over her shin, bare skin catching the light. Smooth. Toned. The kind of legs that looked like they’d never known a single day of neglect. My eyes betrayed me, following the line of her thigh higher than I should’ve.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, almost teasing.

“Still the same Evan, I see,” she chuckled, her voice warm but laced with a sting. “Some men never change, my dear.”

Heat climbed up my neck. I laughed nervously, trying to push it off. “I, uh… no, I was just—”

“You were just?” She tilted her head, eyebrows raised, watching me squirm.

I shook my head quickly, eager to dodge. “So, um… where’s Ivy, though?”

“She’ll be back shortly,” Delilah replied, shifting in her seat with a relaxed confidence. She picked up her mug from the table, took a soft sip, then set it down with care. “Did you call her before coming?”

“No,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “There was this thing, and I figured it’d be best if we talked face-to-face.”

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment, sharp but curious. “Something important?”

“Kind of,” I admitted, forcing the word out.

Delilah adjusted again, her legs crossing the other way now. The movement gave me a flash of black lace between her thighs. My chest tightened. Black panties. Of course. Fuck. My throat dried instantly, and I looked away too late.

She caught it. She always caught it.

“Kind of, huh?” she repeated, her lips curving, tone dripping with knowing amusement.

“Y-yep,” I stammered, shifting in my seat. My knee bounced once, and I dug my palm into it to keep still.

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Quest Available

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Title: Mom?

Task: Fuck Delilah

Reward: 99 EXP

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Accept Quest? [Yes] [No]

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Oh hell no. I wasn’t fucking Delilah. No way. How the hell would I look Ivy in the eyes if I ever did that? Plus, Delilah wasn’t just some random MILF down the street—she was elite. Out of my league. Her boyfriends were always the kind of guys who had thick wallets and better cars, not broke clerks like me.

“You look handsome,” she said, voice soft but firm, eyes studying me like she was trying to read a secret. “Did you do something with your hair? Hitting the gym?”

“Skin care,” I lied quickly. “And some gym, yeah.”

Her lips curved faintly. “Good for you.” She took another sip of coffee before tilting her head. “And how about your girlfriend?”

“She dumped me,” I admitted. My throat felt dry. “She, uh, wanted someone better.”

“Lily—that was her name, right?” Delilah asked. Then she shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Her loss, I’d say.”

“Oh… thank you, Ms. Komb,” I said, awkward as hell.

“Mm.”

I scrambled for another topic. “So, uh, how’s Jack?”

“He’s with his wife in Canada,” she said, setting the cup down. “We just finished talking. Says he’s loving the cold.”

“Canada, huh.” I tried to smile. “Always wanted to visit there.”

She smiled back, faint and distant. Then silence stretched between us—heavy, uncomfortable. Shit. I should’ve called before showing up. If I’d known her mother was here, I’d have thought twice. Instead, here I was, cornered by old memories and the fact that she once handed me her dirty panties. Jesus Christ.

What was I supposed to do? Apologize? “Hey, Ms. Komb, I’m sorry for jacking off using your panties. I was young and stupid. Let’s move past it.” Yeah, right. That’d go well.

“It’s hard to believe,” she broke the silence, voice calm. “I thought Ivy was happy in those suburban areas.”

“I thought this was your husban—sorry. I thought this was David’s house,” I said quickly. “Ivy told me he’d given her the keys.”

“Yeah. She sometimes stays here.” Delilah’s tone softened a little. “My house burned down. So I’m crashing here for a while.”

“Burned down?” I blinked. “What happened?”

“Downstairs neighbor forgot to turn the oven off before going to bed.” Her eyes dropped to the floor, voice lowering. “And… yeah. The whole apartment caught fire. Don’t know what to do now.”

“That’s…” My chest tightened. “You’re one of the strongest women I know, Ms. Komb. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Her lips parted slightly, her gaze flicking up to me. “One of the strongest women… I am not, my dear.”

“After what David did to you, you managed to keep going,” I said, locking eyes with her. “That’s something. No, that’s a big something.”

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EVENT

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Delilah’s Interest +4

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Huh… she liked that? I was just telling the truth. After her husband got caught with another man, she’d fallen into a deep depression. But she pulled herself back, rebuilt her life, and dumped his ass. She really was a strong woman. I wasn’t trying to sweet-talk her or earn points—I meant every word.

Delilah smiled faintly, then lifted her cup again for a sip. After setting it down, she leaned back into the couch, stretching her arms overhead. My eyes betrayed me. Her body shifted, her shirt riding just a little higher, the shape of her chest pressing tight.

Damn.

“I should get changed,” she said, standing smoothly. “Gonna meet with the girls half an hour.”

“Yep,” I muttered.

She started toward the corridor, heels clicking softly on the floor. Just as she reached the corner, she looked back over her shoulder. Her eyes caught mine—playful this time, sharp as a knife.

“And no, Evan. You can’t go to the bathroom. Not after what you—”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” I blurted, waving my hands. “I understand. Please stop.”

Her smile widened. “Aw. Cute.”

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WOMEN – INTERACTIONS

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Jasmine: Interest: 16 / 20

Kayla: Interest: 5 / 20

Tessa: Interest: 15 / 20

Kim: Interest: 6 / 20

Delilah: Interest: 4 / 20

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Progress:

★☆☆☆☆ – 20 Interest: Milestone reward

★★☆☆☆ – 40 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★☆☆ – 60 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★★☆ – 80 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★★★ -100 Interest: Milestone reward

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Select a woman to track progress.

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She disappeared into the corridor, and I let out a long breath of relief. My shoulders slumped as I pushed myself off the couch. I walked over to the window, dragging a hand down my face.

Outside, the sky was already bruising over with dark clouds, rain just waiting to spill. This city’s weather was like a drunk asshole—you never knew what mood it’d swing into.

I leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. Man, this whole situation was awkward as hell. Part of me just wanted Ivy to walk through that door already, rescue me from this silent back-and-forth with her mother.

Rescue me? Yeah, right. I wasn’t here for small talk. I was here because I had to apologize for what she’d heard in that massage parlor. Like that was less awkward. My god… my whole damn life was a parade of messes like this.

A few minutes later, Delilah came back. Tight pants, oversized T-shirt that did a crap job hiding the curve of her chest. She grabbed her bag from one of the dining chairs and tossed a look at me.

“You and Ivy,” she said casually, “used to be tight friends.”

“We still are,” I replied, trying to sound steady. “After that thing with David… she didn’t like the city anymore. So we didn’t see each other much.”

“Still,” she said, shouldering the strap, “it’s sad to see. She’ll be staying here for the next few weeks. You should—”

The front door opened. Then closed.

Footsteps.

Ivy appeared in the living room, damp hair sticking to her cheek like she’d just run through the wind. Her eyes widened the second she saw me.

“Evan,” she said, confused. “Uuh… welcome?”

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Well, I’m gonna leave,” Delilah cut in, already halfway to the door. “The girls are waiting. Bye, Evan.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Bye, Ms. Komb.”

“Bye, honey,” Delilah said, kissing her daughter on the cheek. “I won’t be late.”

And then she was gone—heels clicking down the hall, the faint sound of the door opening, shutting, and silence swallowing the house.

Now it was just me and Ivy.

The air between us? Stiff as a coffin lid.

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