A little flirty

The phone stayed face-down on her desk for all of five minutes.

Maybe less.

Emily hadn’t planned to say anything. Will’s message had been enough—sweet, grateful, decent. Everything it should have been.

But something in it still tugged at her.

They were beautiful.
You looked amazing.
Still do.

Still do.

The words hung in her chest like a necklace with just enough weight to notice every time she moved.

Her thumb slid over the lock screen again. Message thread still open.

She tapped out a reply without thinking too much:

“Guess I should send you more sometime then ☺”

The winking emoji made it worse.

Made it flirtatious.

Made it intentional.

Her heart jumped the moment she hit send.

Too late.

It was already gone. Delivered. Seen.

She stared at it.

That line. That little smirk.

It looked like something she’d never write. Not to anyone. Not even Jason—not these days. It read like a different version of herself. One she didn’t quite trust.

And immediately—

Fuck.

She tapped the input field again and typed fast, before the pause got too long.

“Shit—sorry, I shouldn't have sent that. Ignore it.”

Sent.

She locked the phone, dropped it beside her keyboard, and dragged a hand through her hair with a frustrated exhale.

What are you doing?

Her cheeks were burning. Her thighs pressed tighter together under the desk. Not aroused—just exposed. Off balance.

It had been a joke.

A test.

A moment of impulse.

And now, she didn’t know if she wanted him to believe her follow-up or not.