I almost walked straight into Elara.
She was coming up the hall in nothing but a bikini that had no business being called clothing. Thin strings. A triangle of fabric over each heavy tit that kept slipping when she moved. The bottoms were worse—just a strip covering the V of her and leaving the rest of her tan hips bare. She caught my arms to steady us both and laughed.
“Watch out, girl. You look like you saw a ghost.”
I wished that was all it had been.
Her hands were warm. She was standing close enough that I could smell coconut oil on her skin, and I was still so wet from his room that I was terrified she would feel it if she hugged me. Behind her, down the hall, Lucas’s door stayed shut. I could still hear, or maybe I was only inventing it, the slow wet drag of his fist.
“I’m fine.
