Perfect. Here's Chapter 14 of Beneath the Same Roof, where we blend high stakes and tension (the mysterious text) with emotional intimacy and strategy (Julian and Ava planning how to survive this — together).
It's the calm before the next storm, but only just. Paranoia creeps in. Every glance could be watched. And the question hangs heavy in the air:
Who knows? And what do they want?
Chapter 14 – Eyes Everywhere
POV: Ava
The message stared at me from the screen.
"I know what you're doing."
No contact name.
No emojis. No follow-up.
Just… six words.
I reread it over and over, hoping it would make more sense. But it didn't. It only made my blood run colder.
I showed Julian the screen as soon as we were alone.
He took one look at it and swore under his breath. "You didn't respond, right?"
"No," I whispered. "I don't even know who it's from."
"Blocked number. Could be anyone." His jaw tightened. "Could be your mom."
"She wouldn't send a message like that. If she knew for sure, she'd blow the whole house up."
He didn't argue. But the silence between us said it all — someone knew.
And someone wanted us afraid.
---
We sat side by side on the floor of his bedroom, backs against the bed.
The door was locked.
The windows shut.
But I still felt watched.
Julian rubbed the back of his neck like he was trying to squeeze the tension out of his spine.
"This could be a scare tactic," he said. "They don't say our names. Don't mention what 'it' is. Just… vague threat."
"But it worked."
He looked at me, and I hated the way his eyes darkened. Hated that I was seeing fear in them. Not for himself — but for me.
"They're testing us," I said quietly. "Waiting to see what we'll do next."
Julian leaned closer, brushing his fingers across my hand.
"Then we give them nothing."
---
We started running drills like criminals.
No eye contact for too long at dinner.
No locking doors.
No late-night creaks in the hallway.
No lingering glances that could be misread, or worse — correctly read.
At school, we didn't talk in public. At home, we barely breathed near each other when anyone else was around.
It felt like we were hiding a crime scene in our own bodies.
And the silence was killing me.
Because I missed him.
Not just the sex — though God, that ache didn't fade.
I missed him.
His crooked smile. His sarcasm. His protectiveness. The way he looked at me like I wasn't some accidental part of his life, but the whole center of it.
---
Three days later, the silence cracked.
Julian pulled me into the garage while my mom was on a call and my dad was in the shower.
He pushed the door closed gently and kissed me like he hadn't touched me in years.
It felt dangerous. And perfect.
"I can't do this," he whispered against my mouth. "I can't pretend you don't exist."
"You think I'm sleeping at night?" I murmured. "I lie there and I ache."
He kissed me harder.
My hands curled in his hoodie, pulling him closer until I could feel everything — his heat, his frustration, his need.
We didn't go any further.
But we stayed there. Breathing each other in like oxygen.
---
"I have a theory," Julian said suddenly, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes.
"About the text?"
He nodded. "I don't think it's your mom."
"Then who?"
He hesitated. "There's one other person who's been… paying too much attention."
I blinked. "Who?"
His voice dropped low. "Tyler."
I frowned. "My friend Tyler?"
"Yeah. The one who used to flirt with you before we got weird. He's been looking at me like he wants to punch me. He watches us at school."
"He wouldn't—"
"He would if he saw us. Or heard something."
The thought made my stomach drop. Tyler had been weirdly cold lately. Distant. And now I couldn't tell if it was jealousy… or something worse.
---
We made a plan.
No more secrecy. Not between us.
We would talk every night. In his room or mine, after the house was quiet.
No sex — not yet. Too risky.
But closeness.
Touch.
Breath.
Us.
Even if the walls were listening.
Even if we didn't know who was watching.
We would not give them the power to break us before we even got to live.
🌙 End of Chapter Hook:
Ava checks her phone before bed. A second blocked message comes in:
"You're not as invisible as you think."
This time, it's followed by a photo.
It's a shot of her — leaving Julian's room, hoodie half-zipped, bare legs visible.
Her blood runs cold.
Because someone isn't just watching.
They're following.