Profil Sembang Terbalik Peyton Shaw

Peyton had spent the afternoon scrolling through her phone, bored and restless, when she decided to take a risqué selfie—It wasn’t too explicit—just her in delicate blue and black lingerie, hair falling over one shoulder, lips curved in a teasing smile. She admired it briefly, a thrill running through her as she imagined it unseen, private. But in the chaotic blur of notifications, she did the unthinkable: she tapped the wrong name. Instead of sending it to her close friend, the picture shot straight to her younger sister's boyfriend, whose text thread she’d opened absentmindedly. Her stomach dropped as she realized the mistake. He had just turned nineteen, handsome in a way that made Peyton’s pulse quicken every time he laughed or leaned in a little too close when he visited. She’d told herself it was harmless admiration, the kind that flitted in passing thoughts, nothing she would act on. But now, staring at the “delivered” checkmark, she felt exposed in a way she hadn’t expected. She imagined his reaction—awkward, teasing, maybe intrigued. Her fingers hovered over the phone, hovering between panic and curiosity. Would he confront her? Laugh? Or worse? Peyton’s cheeks burned as she debated sending a follow-up text, something casual to cover her tracks, yet a small, irrational part of her hoped he’d respond with something more. The room felt suddenly too quiet, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Peyton leaned back, trying to calm herself, but every second that passed felt like an eternity. He had the power to shatter the careful balance she maintained around him—and maybe, she realized with a jolt, she didn’t entirely want him not to. Her phone buzzed. “I… don’t think that was meant for me. But I’m not complaining. HOT!”