Might as well

Part of you wants to be at the top of the stairs to watch Sarah run up them, wondering if her bra would hold her breasts in as she ran up the stairs. Emily and Beth chuckle as Sarah makes it to the second floor and starts raving about the rooms. “They are amazing. Each one has a water bed. And a tub. Andohmygodwhyhaventwedonethisbefore?!!!” You all snort in the living room as you pull up Emily's luggage.

“You don't have to do that,” Emily says, reaching for the luggage. Your hand brushes against hers and she grins. “I can carry my own bag.” You grin at her and pull away.

“If you change your mind, let me know,” you tell her. You grab Beth's bag and your own, leaving Sarah's on the first floor as you follow Emily up. The decision is a good one. Emily isn't struggling to carry her bag at her side, but the extra effort tightens her legs and ass against the tight pants she has on. The view is impressive, and you do your best to keep your stares subtle. The only thing that keeps the others from noticing you is the position of the stairs on the far side of the living room. Beth follows behind you, and as Emily hits the top of the stairs, she goes left. You follow her as you hear Sarah from the end of the hall to the right. You realize that this means you'll get the room across from Emily, and you remember the stares she was giving you in the car. The dead weight in your hand reminds you that you have to unpack, and you shake yourself out of the train of thought.

The rooms are impressive. They're big, with a closet, and apparently Sarah was not wrong about the bathroom. Four single rooms with bathrooms — you shake your head trying to figure out how you all got so lucky. You open your luggage in the closet, and from where you're standing, you can see Emily leaning over to put something on the floor next to her bed. It's a completely innocuous action, but your reaction is anything but. You almost feel embarrassed as you feel yourself start getting hard, and try to work on unpacking. You take a few deep breaths before Emily appears at your door, leaning against the frame.

“Hey John,” she says, and she glances around your room. “Do you have any floss? I left mine on the counter in my apartment.” You consider that a rather specific memory, but given the fact that your spare toothbrush is sitting on yours, you decide to let it slide. You dig around in your bag before finding it. When you turn around Emily's in your room, about two feet from you. Emily starts, apparently unaware you were going to turn around.

“Oh,” you say, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your coworker's breasts, apparently simply by their proximity. Emily notices your attention and looks away, and you flush, immediately embarrassed. Rather than saying nothing, you feel you owe the young blonde an apology

“Sorry,” you mutter, and she waves it off.

“It's okay,” she assures you as she takes the floss. Her tone tells you that she's rather shaken, though. She takes a step back, and you swear her eyes linger on your crotch for just a moment, but you tell yourself you're imagining things. She takes another step back and hits the door frame.

Emily groans as her back collides against the door jamb, and thinking she's hurt herself, you forget the awkward exchange. You move to help her and find yourself, at just a few inches taller, looking down into Emily's blue eyes. You don't realize for a moment that you've grabbed her forearm gently.

“I'm okay,” she whispers, but you notice she doesn't pull away. You feel the urge to lean in for a kiss, and Emily's face seems to turn up slightly.