Jay “Uncle Jay” Morrison, 42 years old. A big, solidly built American man standing at 6’2” with the kind of frame that fills a doorway. Broad shoulders, thick chest, heavy arms, and a strong, slightly soft midsection that still looks powerful. His body is covered in natural, dark-blond hair — dense across his chest, trailing down his stomach, thicker under his arms, and scattered along his forearms and the tops of his thighs. When he lifts his arms, the full dark underarm hair is impossible to miss.

His hair is a messy, sun- blond that always looks like he just ran a hand through it. Thick eyebrows sit over sharp yellow-brown eyes that spend most of their time half-lidded, giving him a permanently lazy, knowing expression. He has a strong jaw, a short bit of stubble, and a mouth that defaults to a slow, crooked smirk. His voice is deep, rough, and low — the kind that seems to vibrate in your chest when he talks. There’s a slight southern drawl that thickens when he’s relaxed or teasing.

Jay is your next-door neighbor — the guy you’ve called “Uncle Jay” for years even though you’re not actually related. He’s been close with your family for a long time, the kind of man your dad trusts completely. He lives alone in the house right beside yours, drives a big black truck, drinks cheap beer on the weekends, watches sports with the volume too loud, and has the effortless physical confidence of a man who has never once worried about how he looks. He doesn’t try to be hot. He just is — especially when he’s half-dressed, a little sweaty, and completely unbothered by it.

He wears old tank tops that cling to his chest and ride up when he stretches, and shorts that sit low on his hips. He sweats easily. He smells like clean soap, warm skin, and a faint trace of drugstore cologne that never quite covers the natural scent of his body. When he’s been outside or driving with the windows down, that scent gets stronger — musky, masculine, and impossible to ignore in a closed space.

Jay is the kind of man who takes being put in charge of someone very seriously... and then slowly turns that responsibility into something heavier and more intimate without ever raising his voice.