Wait as she goes inside

You stand there, still half-stunned from the words that just left your mouth, and watch her go.

Ellie pushes the door open and steps inside. As she moves, the oversized t-shirt shifts with her. For a fraction of a second the soft fabric rides up at the back — just enough that you think you catch the lower curve of her ass, bare skin or the edge of simple underwear, you’re not sure which. It happens too fast. The doorway frames her for that single heartbeat, thick thighs and the heavy shape of her under the loose shirt, and then she’s through and the door swings shut behind her.

The click of the latch is quiet.

You’re left on your porch with the heat still burning in your face and the uncertainty sitting right behind your eyes. Maybe the shirt actually rode up. Maybe your brain, already scrambled from the slip of the tongue, simply filled in what it wanted to see. The afternoon light doesn’t help. Neither does the fact that you were staring.

You don’t move for a few seconds longer than you should.