House Rules
The days that follow settle into a rhythm. Wake up, make breakfast, clean, work, cook, clean again, collapse. Repeat.
It's not that the arrangement is unbearable. The apartment is stunning, the rent is a fraction of what it should be, and your actual job is going well enough. On paper, you're managing.
The "problem" is that three very attractive women live in this apartment and apparently have a liking to wear close to nothing.
Charlotte is never underdressed by accident. She is fully aware of exactly what you can see and exactly what it does to you. But it's your problem.
Alina lives in crop tops and g-strings, and she has the kind of ass that makes that particular combination genuinely dangerous.
Gabbie is a different kind of problem. You've started to suspect that half the time she simply forgets to put clothes on. She'll ask you to watch some TV together, perfectly cheerful, apparently unaware that she's wearing only underwear, and not always a complete set of it. Sometimes it's only the top, other only the bottom.
You haven't had a single moment alone since you moved in. Between the duties, the remote work, the errands and the cooking and the driving, by the time the house goes quiet at night you're so exhausted you're asleep before you can do anything about the tension that's been building in your body for days.
And then there are the peculiar requests.