The shower's warmth slid over her skin, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her. Grace closed her eyes, letting the water fall across her shoulders and down her back, hoping it would wash away the thoughts she wasn't supposed to have.
But they clung to her — soft, vivid, deliciously persistent.
His eyes when they met hers…
The curve of his lips when he said her name…
And that birthmark — heart-shaped, like a secret only she had noticed.
Her fingers rose to trace her own neck, touching the place her eyes had lingered on him. A breath slipped from her lips — quiet, shaky — as desire unfurled beneath her skin.
What is happening to me?
She pressed her forehead against the cool tile, trying to steady the rush inside her chest. Everything she felt was wrong… and yet it pulsed through her like something she had been waiting to feel for years.
It felt terrifying.
It felt incredible.
It felt… alive.
For a moment she tried to remember logic — age, boundaries, rules.
But the more she forced them forward, the more he came back.
His voice.
His warmth.
His delicate beauty that had undone her in just one afternoon.
Grace placed a hand over her racing heart — as if she could hold it in place.
"This cannot be happening," she breathed into the steam — though the tremor in her voice told her she already knew the truth.
Then the memory hit her — sharp and uncontrollable:
"Eli… could I have your number?"
Her heart jolted.
Her other arm slid up to shield her chest, shame and longing tightening together beneath her skin.
She covered her face with both hands, cheeks burning.
She had never crossed a line before.
Not like that.
Not because she wanted someone.
And wanting him…
wasn't fading at all.
She shut off the shower abruptly, wrapping herself in a towel, desperate to feel grounded again.
---
Grace moved slowly — the way she always did when her emotions tried to spill over. She dried her hair with gentle fingers. Wore the softest T-shirt she owned. The least romantic pair of shorts. Anything to feel… ordinary again.
Then she made coffee.
No sugar.
Bitter comfort.
The slow, familiar ritual steadied her.
The steam rising from the cup.
The warmth in her palms.
A reminder: composure, restraint, control.
Her phone rested beside the mug, screen dark.
She stared at it just a second too long — imagining a single message lighting it up.
Not him.
She couldn't.
Not again today.
So she tapped Hannah's contact instead.
"Grace! Day off?! I expect full relaxation and zero guilt."
Hannah's voice was cheerfully dramatic, exactly what Grace needed.
A soft, relieved breath slipped out.
"I'm trying," she answered, taking a sip.
"No papers to grade? No lectures to revise? I'm proud already," Hannah laughed.
Grace smiled — real, small — grateful for the normalcy, for being pulled away from the thoughts that still simmered beneath her skin.
They talked — about harmless things, safe things.
With every minute, the chaos inside her untangled itself a little more.
When the call ended, silence returned — not heavy… just quiet.
Grace let her head fall back against the chair, eyes closing.
Her heartbeat slowed.
Her breathing steadied.
But then—
Her lips still tingled
where a kiss didn't exist yet…
Her hands slipped lightly down her abdomen before she stopped herself —
breath catching at how easily the thought of him could move her.
As if her heart already remembered
a memory her body was still waiting to feel.