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I let out the laugh I’ve been fighting back. I can’t help it.

Emma mouths, “Stop!” I only smile wider.

“Okay, well, Evan’s waiting for you.”

“I know. I’ll hurry.” Rachel finally walks away. Emma eyes the tub. “Fine. I’ll take a shower, but you have to stand by the door.”

“Don’t worry.” I smirk like a jackass. “I won’t peek.”

“Funny,” she bites back. “We have to switch spots so I can get to the shower. Please don’t make this any more awkward than it already is.”

I eye the minuscule space and scoff. Oh, this is going to be awkward as fuck.

Emma stretches tall, practically holding her breath, in an attempt to slide past me between the pedestal sink and the shower without touching. She turns her head, and I’m hit with the floral scent of her skin barely an inch away. Our bare stomachs slide against each other, slick with sweat.

I can feel her inhale when we make contact. At the same time, I exhale against her neck, chuckling.

Emma stills and tilts her head up. We’re inches apart. There’s a rush of heat in her cheeks. For a fleeting moment, I consider how easy it would be to kiss her. My eyes drift to her full lips. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Emma moves past me as if trying to escape the temptation herself. She picks my sweaty shirt off the floor and throws it at me, making me laugh harder. Panic flashes across her face, reminding me we could easily be overheard.

I face the door to provide her privacy. The scraping of metal lets me know she’s behind the shower curtain. My mind wanders to a place it has no right to. Except it’s nearly impossible to control the moment she turns on the shower. I can’t stay in here.

I unlatch the hook and peek out. All clear. I slide my shirt back on as I maneuver through the partially open door into her room. I make a production of stepping onto the landing, letting the hinges squeak wide.

Rachel appears from the kitchen. “Jonathan? You’ve been here this whole time?” There’s a hint of skepticism in her narrowed eyes. But it disappears quickly. I may just get away with this. Although there’s really nothing to get away with. It was an innocent and hilarious accident.

“I was using Emily’s computer,” I say with ease. There’s always a lie to get away with. “I was on a video chat with the office, so I couldn’t get off when you came in. Sorry.”

Emma steps out of the bathroom wearing Rachel’s silk bathrobe. I need to stop looking at her. Stop whatever’s going on inside of me from becoming a dangerous situation.

Laughter bursts from my mouth. Practically from my lungs. It sounds weird. Like my voice is breaking open. But it feels strangely good, like dancing. Something I haven’t done in a while either. I returned to the studio this week after abandoning it last winter. My muscles stretched and ached as they acclimated to the movement. My body translated memory into action with each chassé and plié.

I never thought laughter would be the same. Deep belly laughs that aren’t forced or cut short.

“Thank you for inviting me tonight,” I tell Bobby while we walk to my car. I admit I hesitated, having put him off before the holidays. I truly enjoyed the after-work gathering with the other lawyers, clerks and interns. “I should’ve said yes a while ago.”

“Glad you could make it,” he says, his scarf pulled tight. “Ready to be able to feel my ears again.”

“Yeah. I wish I were going to grad school somewhere warmer, like California or North Carolina. But Massachusetts it is. I don’t think I’m made to move too far away from everyone I know anyway.”

“Congratulations, by the way. BU, right?” I nod. “They have an incredible Law School.” That seems to be the assumption: that I’m pursuing law. Probably because of my father and brother. That’s not my path.

“Actually, I got into their MSW program. I don’t want to be stuck in libraries. I’d rather make a real difference.” I realize what I just said to a lawyer too late. “No offense.”

Bobby chuckles. “You’re definitely more of a people person. We all help in our own way, I guess.”

We’re standing beside my car, freezing.

“Well, thanks again.” I’m about to turn when he leans in and kisses my cheek. My pale skin heats with two apple blotches.

“I should’ve asked,” he fumbles. “Know better than to just dive in like that.”

I laugh. “Uh. You’re fine. I’m just… not ready. Not yet.”

Bobby nods in understanding, having seen enough broken homes in the courtroom to understand that some things can’t be forced.

“I’ll see you on Monday?”