Off to Rami's house

They left right then.

Rami didn’t say much, just grabbed his water bottle and towel and followed her out through the front entrance of the gym. Emily felt the weight of his gaze lingering behind her the whole way—intentional now, unashamed. The heavy thud of his sneakers on the pavement seemed to echo her heartbeat, and she caught herself walking a little faster than usual.

When they hit the parking lot, she turned toward her car and raised an eyebrow as he didn’t veer off.

“You drove?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Walked.”

“You walked all the way here?”

“Gym’s not far,” he said with a shrug. “Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

She glanced at the sky—clouds rolling in, heavy and bruised at the edges. The kind that promised a fast, moody summer storm.

“Get in,” she said, already unlocking the car. “I’m not letting you get soaked on the way back.”

Rami didn’t argue.

He opened the passenger door and folded himself into the seat with a slow, deliberate stretch, legs spread wide. Emily glanced down instinctively, then looked away just as fast.

His erection hadn’t faded.

Still thick, still outlined perfectly by the clingy material of his shorts. Even worse now that he was sitting. The fabric tented upward, resting against one thigh, and when he adjusted the seatbelt across his chest, it shifted slightly—faint, but enough to make her fingers tighten on the wheel.

She started the car, then immediately launched into idle chatter.

“So, what’s the internship?”

“Software dev. Remote. Just started onboarding this week.”

“Oh, that’s great! Are you doing it through the school or something private?”

“Private. Connection through a friend of my dad’s.”

“Nice. That’s the dream, right? Do it in your pajamas with a cat on your lap.”

“I don’t have a cat.”

Emily laughed too brightly. “Well. Trade it for something else. Maybe a weighted blanket. A plant. Emotional support mug.”

He didn’t respond. Just glanced out the window. She kept going.

“You know,” Emily said, keeping her eyes pointed firmly at the road, “sometimes I wish I could work from home. Just wake up, roll out of bed, and start in my pajamas. Maybe I’d even get a little peace.”

Rami glanced at her, but said nothing.

She exhaled. “But that’s not how my job works. I have to be present. Meetings, check-ins, face time. Half the work is just showing up in heels and pretending I don’t want to strangle half the office.”

“Sounds like hell,” he said, dry.

She let out a short laugh. “It is. But it’s mine.”

They were just turning onto his street when the rain hit.

No gentle buildup—just a sudden hammering on the windshield, fat drops thudding against the glass, making visibility drop in seconds. The sky above them had turned flat and steel-colored, the edges of the clouds thickening like bruises.

“Damn,” Emily muttered, flipping the wipers on high. “That came out of nowhere.”

Rami reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black garage door fob. “Pull into the garage.”

She took it, pressed the button, and the big door rumbled upward as they coasted closer. The garage was empty, neat, spotless. She guided the car forward into the space just as the rain reached its peak—sheets pouring down outside, hammering the roof, drowning out every other sound.

The garage door shut behind them with a dull, echoing clunk.

The silence that followed was thick.

Emily pulled the key, sat back against the seat, exhaled. Then reached for her water bottle—anything to keep her hands busy, her eyes focused. Because Rami was still hard beside her, legs spread, chest rising slow and steady, the shape beneath his shorts utterly unmistakable. He hadn’t even tried to hide it.

She swallowed. Glanced at the door.

“So,” she said lightly, voice a little too breezy. “Tour time?”