Just as Josie opens her mouth to say something, a loudCLATTERechoes from somewhere down the hall.
Her eyes go wide. My fucking heartstops.
"Shit," we hiss in unison.
We move like the building's on fire. She yanks her leggings up, going commando because her panties are currently in my pocket, and I snatch my shirt off the floor and shove it over my head.
"Go! Go! Go!" I bark, trying not to trip over.
She grabs her bag, I grab her hand, and we bolt for the door, half-laughing, half-terrified, sprinting down the dark corridor like a couple of teenagers about to get caught by their parents.
We burst out the player's entrance into the warm night air, and only when we're a hundred feet from the building, both of us doubled over and gasping, do we finally slow down.
"That," she pants, hands braced on her knees, chest heaving like she's just finished a marathon, "absolutelycannothappen again."
I look at her. Her hair's a disaster, her cheeks are flushed, her shirt's on inside out.
"We said that last time."
She straightens up, points a finger at my chest, then drops it, defeated. "...We did, didn't we."
"We did."
She laughs, shaking her head, and I can't stop the smile pulling at my mouth.
"Come on." I tip my head toward the boardwalk. "I'll walk you home."
"It's not far."
"Don't care. Last time I let you walk somewhere alone, it didn't exactly end with us being strangers."
She doesn't argue.
We walk the boardwalk in the dark, the string lights swaying overhead, the carousel quiet and still, the only sound the waves and the soft scuff of our footsteps.
She doesn't take my hand and I don't take hers, but we walk close enough that our shoulders keep brushing, and I make damn sure to keep it that way.
When we reach the Beachside Hotel, she pauses at the entrance. Twin brass lanterns flank the doors, flickering with real flames that catch in her eyes.
It's then that I realize, standing here in the lantern light with her panties still in my pocket and her vibrator absolutelynotin my pocket, that I would happily set this entire building on fire just to keep her looking at me the way she's looking at me right now.
"This is me."
"Yeah. I guess it is." I shove my hands in my pockets. The torn lace is still in one of them and I twirl my finger around it nervously. "Go on. Get inside."
She gives me one last look, like she's thinking about kissing me, but then, without another word, she disappears through the doors.
I stand there in the dark like a fucking idiot, watching the windows, until a light flicks on three floors up.
She's safe.
Only then do I turn and walk back toward my Rover.
I climb in, drop into the drivers seat, and pull out my phone to check the time.
A new message is sitting at the top of the team group chat. From Tyler, Josie's little assistant from the other day.
It's a photo. A screenshot of the box office portal for this weekend's game.
