The lock clicks

He’d just lied for her. Covered for her.

Then—

Click.

The sound was sharp, metallic, final.

Emily’s eyes snapped to the door handle. His hand still rested on it. His thumb had turned the lock.

The fluorescent light buzzed overhead, louder now, filling the silence that stretched after.

Something in the air changed.

Moments ago, it had been charged, uncertain, almost protective. But with that single click, it tipped. Tilted. Became something else entirely.

Michael’s shoulders stayed squared, his chest rising and falling quicker than before. He glanced at her breasts again, bare and flushed, then back to her eyes. His voice came low, steady, almost casual.

“We don’t want anyone else walking in like that.”

Emily’s throat worked. She swallowed, her lips parting but no words coming out. Her arms instinctively came up, crossing over her chest to hide the swell of her breasts, but it was useless—her nipples were stiff, raw, impossible to conceal.

Michael stepped away from the door, slow, deliberate. He didn’t break eye contact. His sneakers scuffed against the tile, each step echoing too loud in the hollow men’s room.

Emily’s back pressed harder into the cold tile wall. The chill didn’t calm her; it only made her more aware of her flushed skin, the heat flooding her face, her stomach, lower.

“You ran in here so fast,” he said quietly, as if they were the only two people in the world. “Didn’t even look where you were going. And now…”

His eyes dropped—lingering openly on her bare chest. He didn’t even try to hide it.

“…you’re in the wrong room.”

Her breath hitched, sharp.

Michael’s jaw tightened. His fists flexed once at his sides, then loosened. He moved closer—just a step, but enough that Emily could smell the faint salt of sweat and sun still clinging to him.

She pressed tighter to the wall. “Unlock it,” she managed, though her voice wavered.

He tilted his head, lips curving in something that wasn’t a smile. “You really want me to?”

Silence.

Emily’s nails dug into her arms, her blush deepening until her ears rang with it. She opened her mouth again, but the sound stuck in her throat.

Michael closed the distance in another step. Now his chest was just a foot from hers. The wall was cold at her back, his body heat hot at her front. She had nowhere to move.

His eyes dropped again, slowly, to her breasts. Then lower. Back up.

“You looked…” his voice rasped low, “…so fucking embarrassed out there.”

Emily’s pulse thudded, her heart pounding in her ribs.

He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed her ear.

“I liked it.”