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Clint laughs on screen. Clint also laughs through the wall. The same sound, split in two.

My entire body goes cold and hot at once. I reach for the volume and drag it almost all the way down.

HotnReddy: Trains can be fun depending on who’s in the middle.

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

Not too loud.

On the screen, Clint’s face changes. His eyes flick to the side, toward his bedroom door. Then toward the wall between us.

Loud enough.

I stop breathing and slam the laptop shut. I sit frozen on the bed, naked, heart hammering, every inch of me suddenly too visible.

The chair wheels move. He’s stopped talking.

Fix it.

The thought hits so hard it feels almost possible.

I jump off the bed, grabbing the laptop before it can betray me further.

Under the bed.

Yes. Good. Absurd, but good.

I slide it beneath the frame like I’m hiding porn from my mother.

Shower.

Makes sense.

It’s morning. Time to shower. Normal human sequence.

I snatch last night’s towel from the floor and wrap it around my waist. My hands are not steady. The knot takes two tries.

From the other side of the wall, something thumps.

A chair. A foot. A body moving too fast.

I stand in the middle of the room and turn once, uselessly, as if I’ve misplaced the instructions.

Shower. Get to the shower.

I open the bedroom door carefully. The hallway is bright and narrow, impossibly quiet.

I step out, keeping my expression still. Nothing wrong here. Just a responsible person about to enjoy the hall bath’s superior water pressure.

I make it three steps before Clint’s door flies open.

He’s naked. Hard. Breathing fast.

For one useless second, my mind supplies facts with appalling clarity. His chest is flushed. His eyes are wild and fully awake in a way that makes the hallway feel smaller than it is.

I jump back against the opposite wall. The towel stays up by mercy or physics.

He stares at me, waiting for words.