"The sex?" His voice was carefully neutral. "I just don't think we need to dissect it."
"Dissect it? I'm not asking for a lab report. I just think ignoring it is going to make the next week and a half incredibly awkward."
Alex finally looked up, and Lily caught the conflict in his blue eyes—the war between what he wanted and what he thought he should want. She knew that battle intimately.
"It was a mistake," he said, but the words lacked conviction.
"Was it?" Lily moved closer, settling into the chair across from him. "Because from where I was sitting—well, technically I was horizontal at that point—it felt pretty intentional."
A flush crept up his neck. "The circumstances were... heightened. The storm. Your fear. Proximity."
"Proximity," she repeated, amused. "Is that the scientific term for it?"
"I'm serious, Lily. We're stuck here together. Getting involved complicates things."
"News flash: things are already complicated." She took a sip of coffee, letting the silence stretch. "Look, I'm not asking you to propose. I'm just saying we're both adults who shared a moment. We can acknowledge it happened without it turning into a whole thing."
"And then what?"
"And then we figure it out as we go." She shrugged. "That's kind of how life works, in case you missed that lecture in grad school."
Alex stared at her, something shifting in his expression. "You're remarkably calm about this."
"One of us has to be." She grinned. "Besides, I've done worse. I once had a one-night stand with an Instagram model in Tulum who turned out to be a flat-earther. Nowthatwas a mistake worth dissecting."
The corner of his mouth twitched despite himself. "A flat-earther?"
"Believed the ocean was a government simulation. Hottest guy I'd ever seen, dumbest thing I'd everheard." Lily leaned back in her chair. "Point is, one bump and grind during a tropical storm isn't the end of the world. Unless you're secretly a flat-earther too, in which case, we have bigger problems."
"The earth is demonstrably spherical," Alex said dryly.
"See? We're already more compatible than my last hook-up."
"Not sure I like being lumped in with that guy." He shook his head, but the tension in his shoulders had eased slightly.
"I'm known for my terrible comparisons. I'm smart, too, remember?" She winked.
"That you are. And impossible."
"I prefer 'delightfully persistent.'" Lily finished her coffee and set the mug down with purpose. "Now, since we've established that neither of us is going to spontaneously combust from acknowledging our attraction, can we talk about something else?"
"Like what?"
"Like my proposal from before. Filming your research."
Alex's guard went back up immediately. "I thought we discussedthis."
"We discussed it when you thought I was a vapid content creator who'd turn your life's work into a punchline." She held his gaze. "I'd like to think you know me a little better now."
"Do I?"
The question hung between them, weighted with more than its surface meaning. Lily considered her answer carefully.
"You know I'm afraid of storms," she said quietly. "You know I have daddy issues and a pre-law degree I never used. You know I actually care about the places I feature, even if I didn't always show it." She paused. "That's more than most people get."
Alex was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. When he spoke, his voice was softer. "My supervisor told me before I left that I needed to work on public engagement. That the research doesn't matter if no one outside academia ever hears about it."
"Smart supervisor."
