Why wait for sometime?

The wrapper crinkles under my fingers as I set the half-eaten sub aside, the mustard's tang lingering on my tongue while the shop's steam curls lazily around us. Elena's knee hasn't moved from mine, a warm pressure that anchors the moment, her green eyes still locked on the faint glow of the phone's screen where Vanessa's profile fades to a subtle pulse. She's breathing a little deeper now, that flush creeping up her neck again like it did last night on the couch, and the way she's leaning in, close enough that I catch the faint citrus of her skin, stirs the tightness in my jeans into something insistent, pulling at my focus. Her words hang between us, electric and inviting. "Do it again sometime. Live, right in front of me. I want to watch it happen."

I glance sideways, swallowing against the dry pull in my throat, and spot them at the next table over. Two college girls huddled over a shared tray of veggie wraps and smoothies, their laughter bubbling light and unchecked above the counter's clatter. The one with the blonde braid laughs first, her tank top clinging to sun-freckled shoulders, short shorts riding up toned thighs as she gestures with animated hands, her friend, a brunette with loose waves spilling over a cropped hoodie, nodding along, dark eyes crinkled in easy amusement. They're probably twenty, maybe twenty-one, the kind of effortless energy that fills the shop without trying, backpack slung over one chair like they've just escaped a lecture hall a few blocks over. Innocent, unassuming, the jacket of the day.

A grin tugs at my lips as I turn back to Elena, my foot hooking lightly behind her ankle under the table, testing the tension. "Why wait for sometime?" I murmur, keeping my voice low, the words slipping out smoother than I expect, laced with that amplified confidence that's become my default since her. "We could do it right now. Over there, them. Nothing heavy, just a brush. Make them notice us, maybe flirt across the room. I'd show you every step, the threads forming in real time." My pulse quickens at the suggestion, not from the power alone but from the way her eyes sharpen, pupils dilating just a fraction as she follows my gaze to the girls, the air between us thickening like the steam rolling off the grill.

She doesn't pull back, doesn't flinch. Instead, a slow smile curves her lips, curious and edged with that tactical gleam I saw across the partitions earlier, her fingers drumming once on the table before sliding closer, brushing the back of my hand. "You serious?" she breathes, her voice husky and alive, leaning in until her ponytail drapes forward, tickling my arm. "Here? In public?" There's no judgment in it, just that hunger flickering brighter, pulling me deeper. The same raw pull from watching Tessa kneel, but shared now, hers as much as mine. Her knee presses firmer against me, deliberate, and I can feel the heat of her through the denim, the suggestion hanging taut and tempting as the girls' laughter dips, oblivious for the moment.