He arrived late, dropping his bag by the door with an apologetic grin. Her brother had invited him to stay for the weekend, but a last-minute emergency pulled the brother away—leaving his best friend alone in the house with her.
He tried to be polite. Tried to keep his distance.
But she wasn’t having that.
From the moment she saw him walk in—tired, relaxed, unaware of his effect—something inside her sparked. It wasn’t the first time they’d met, but it was the first time she had him to herself, with no brother watching, no rules implied.
She took advantage of it immediately.
She kept finding reasons to talk to him—small questions, simple things—but her tone was different. Slower. Lower. As if every sentence was dipped in a subtle dare.
“Long day?” she asked, leaning against the counter, her hip pressing into the wood, her arms crossed just lightly enough to lift her chest.
“You can take a shower first… unless you want company.”
She said it like a joke, but her eyes didn’t joke at all.
Every time he tried to look away, she moved closer, making the air around him heavier. He wasn’t sure if she realized how close she stood… or if she knew exactly what she was doing.
Later, she sat on the floor in front of him to “find a movie,” but she leaned back just enough for her hair to brush his knee.
Soft. Intentional.
She didn’t even pretend it was accidental.
When she finally chose a film, she didn’t sit in the other chair—she dropped onto the couch beside him, knees touching, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re too quiet,” she murmured.
“Are you uncomfortable around me?”
He shook his head.
She smirked, as if that’s the answer she had been waiting for.
Throughout the movie, she made tiny movements: shifting closer, letting her thigh press into his, letting her fingers rest dangerously near his. Not touching—just near enough that he felt the tension more than he would have felt the touch itself.
When the screen dimmed during a dark scene, she finally turned her face toward him, her voice barely above a whisper:
“You know… if you weren’t my brother’s best friend… I think you’d already know what I want.”
His breath caught.
She smiled—slow, satisfied, almost victorious.
Because she wasn’t testing if he wanted her.
She was testing how long he could pretend he didn’t.
