Continuing the session

Emily’s pencil paused mid-scribble as Principal Lee leaned in to point out a formula, his forearm brushing against hers. The contact was fleeting—barely there—but the warmth of his skin lingered, sending a peculiar little shiver down her spine. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on the textbook.

"I get it," she lied, tapping her eraser against the graph. "So insulin’s demand curve is steeper because people *need* it." She chewed the inside of her cheek, hyper-aware of how close he was. She crossed her legs under the table, her skirt riding up another inch. The movement felt oddly deliberate, though she couldn’t say why.

John cleared his throat, shifting back slightly. "Exactly. Now, luxury goods—" His gaze flickered to her exposed thigh for half a second before darting away. "—they’re more responsive to price changes. Like... lacrosse gear."

Emily hummed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Makes sense." She stretched her arms overhead, arching her back just enough to make her blouse pull taut across her chest. A yawn escaped her and she blinked up at him through her lashes. "Sorry, long day. Could you explain the substitution effect again?"

John’s jaw tightened as he reached for the textbook. "Sure." His voice came out rougher than usual. "If the price of coffee spikes, people might switch to tea. That’s—" He faltered when Emily leaned forward to peer at the page, her cleavage pressing against the edge of the table.

John cleared his throat and nudged the textbook toward Emily’s side of the table, putting a deliberate inch of space between them. "Right. Substitution effect," he said, forcing his voice into its usual lecture-hall cadence. "Think of it like—like switching from coffee to tea when prices change. The demand curve shifts because consumers find alternatives." He tapped the graph with his pen, focusing on the neat lines of ink instead of the way Emily’s skirt had ridden up another fraction when she crossed her legs again.

Emily nodded, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she doodled a tiny lacrosse stick in the margin of her notes. "So if your favorite stick brand gets too expensive, you’d just… buy a different one?" She glanced up through her lashes, the overhead light catching the gold flecks in her blue eyes.

"Exactly," John said, shifting in his chair. The library’s ancient air conditioning chose that moment to wheeze to life, sending a draft that fluttered the pages of Emily’s notebook—and lifted the hem of her skirt just enough to reveal the barest sliver of white lace at the edge of her thigh. John jerked his gaze back to the textbook like it had personally offended him. "Elasticity depends on availability of substitutes," he continued, his voice tight. "Which brings us to—"

A loud *thunk* from the shelves behind them made them both jump. Emily’s knee bumped against his under the table, warm and solid, and she let out a breathless little laugh as she pulled away. "Sorry, that surprised me" she murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. The motion made her blouse gape slightly at the collar, revealing the delicate hollow of her throat. John found himself staring at the top curves of her breasts, so delicate and enticing.

Outside, the campus clock tower chimed nine o’clock, the sound reverberating through the library’s high ceilings. John seized the interruption like a lifeline. "We should probably wrap up," he said, closing the textbook with more **** than necessary. "It’s getting late, and we can pick this back up on Tuesday.”