Thinking of Alex

Sarah stands under the warm spray, letting the water run down her back. The steam curls around her body as she props one forearm against the tiled wall, her forehead resting against it. Her eyes drift half-closed, and despite herself, her mind wanders.

Alex. She's known him for years. She's never let herself look too long, not because he isn't attractive, but because she's always been so focused on Joe — so desperate to be his perfect girl that she never allowed herself to notice anyone else. But the truth is undeniable now, lingering at the edge of her thoughts like the warmth of the water.

He's broad-shouldered. She's noticed it when he wears fitted shirts, the way the fabric pulls across his chest. His arms are defined, not gym-boy obvious, but solid. His hands are big, and she's watched him gesture while talking — she's always quietly filed that away. His jaw is sharp, his smile easy, and he's kind. She remembers how he treats strangers, how he remembers little details about people. There's a warmth to him that's different from Joe's intensity — a calm confidence that makes people feel safe.

Sarah swallows, the thought settling low in her belly. She opens her eyes, staring at the water pooling at her feet. A slow blush creeps up her chest.

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