The storm rolled in Tuesday at night. Maya was on the third floor at their usual table. Her research paper sat open on her laptop, the cursor blinking after a paragraph she'd already rewritten six times. The sky had been an ugly grey all evening. She'd seen it on the walk over and ignored it.
Suddenly the lights went out.
The red emergency lights clicked on, making it difficult to see. Students around her packed up. Voices and footsteps fading as the floor cleared out.
Her phone lit up.
Jake: where are you
Maya: library. third floor. power's out.
Jake: stay there I'm on my way.
Maya: okay.
She typed using her phone light, trying to finish a line about embodied capital and social reproduction, but the words wouldn't stick. She'd been stuck on the same data for two weeks, ever since Dr. Monroe called her work "promising but unfocused."
She heard unhurried footsteps coming up the stairs.
Jake popped up at the end of the aisle holding two thermoses. His jacket was soaked at the shoulders and his hair stuck to his forehead. He was out of breath.
"You're soaking wet," she said.
"Don't worry about it." He set the thermoses down and peeled off his hoodie. Underneath was a plain gray tee, damp and sticking to his chest and shoulders. She could see his collarbone and the hollow of his throat.
He handed her a thermos. "Black, two sugars."
She held it with both hands. The metal was warm. She knew a thermos like this cost thirty or forty bucks. She sipped anyway and let the heat spread through her chest.
"Thanks," she said.
He gave a small, tired smile and pulled the chair next to her, close enough that their knees touched under the table. He glanced at her screen, then at her. "How much is left?"
"Two thousand words. Maybe more." She set the thermos down. "It's not happening tonight."
"Why?"
She caught the raindrops still in his hair, at the wet patches where his t-shirt clung and showed skin underneath. "Because I'm tired."
She wasn't just tired from the paper. It was the scholarship, the pressure. She was always the one who held it all together and never slipped.
Jake watched her for a moment. Then he stood and walked over to her side of the table.
"Come on," he said, pulling the chair out slightly. "Let me see if I can help."
He leaned over her, one hand on the back of her chair, the other on the table by her laptop. His bare forearm was tan, muscles moving under the skin. A vein stood out along his wrist in the red light. His hand looked strong.
She wondered how those fingers would feel inside her. Or tangled in her hair, pulling just hard enough to sting.
He was too close. Rain and cedar clung to him, the scent she'd come to associate with safety. His chest was right at eye level, the thin shirt not hiding much. The red light made his eyes look black.
"Maya?" His voice was low. "Are you listening?"
She looked up. "Your eyes are black."
His gaze dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes. "I've never noticed."
She reached up and pulled him down by the front of his shirt.
The kiss was instant and deep. He made a surprised, hungry sound against her mouth and cupped her jaw. She shut her laptop without looking an then pushed it aside onto the empty chair.
Then Jake lifted her like she weighed nothing. Hands at her waist, thumbs digging into her hips. Her legs went around him as he set her on the table edge, stepping between her thighs. He didn't break the kiss.
She moaned into the kiss.
He pulled back just enough to breathe. "You need to be quiet," he whispered, his forehead against hers. "People are still here."
She smiled against his lips. "I'll try. But I'm not promising anything."
She knew exactly how it looked. If someone came up the stairs now, they'd see Maya Alvarez with her legs around Jake Thompson, his hands under her shirt, her fingers in his hair. Someone would take a picture. Post it. The gold digger, caught in 4K. Proof she was after clout.
The comments would be worse this time. She'd become the girl who fucked the quarterback in the library, and that story would stick longer than any other.
She kissed him harder, trying to drown it out.
He kissed her and Maya let herself sink into it. She pulled his hair until he groaned against her mouth. Bit his lower lip and felt him tense.
Her hands slid over his shoulders, the damp cotton of his shirt, down his biceps, across his chest, to his stomach. She felt the ridges of his abs through the fabric, the way his breath hitched when her thumbs traced the waistband of his jeans.
She pressed her palm against him through the denim, feeling the hard line of him, he groaned into her neck.
"Shit," he breathed. "Maya—"
She did it again, a slow drag of her palm, and his hips bucked towards her involuntarily. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, his breath hot through her sweater.
"You're going to kill me," he whispered.
"Good," she said, and bit his earlobe.
His hands reached the hem of her trousers. His thumbs traced the waistband, slow enough to drive her crazy, not going any lower. She lifted her hips, trying to lead him, and he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.
"Please," she said, barely a whisper. "Jake, please—"
He smiled against her throat. "Please what?"
"Don't—" She gasped as his thumb finally dipped below the waistband an inch, then retreated. "Don't tease me."
"Not teasing," he murmured, his mouth at her jaw. "Just taking my time."
His hand slid lower, fingers stroking her through her underwear, and she bit his shoulder to stay quiet. He did it again, slow and torturous, watching her face contort in pleasure.
"Look at me," he said quietly.
She opened her eyes and found his locked on hers, and it made her chest ache. His fingers slipped beneath her underwear and she arched into his hand, aching for more pressure, more friction.
"Okay?" he whispered.
She nodded, her hands fisting in his hair. "Please don't stop."
He kept to that rhythm, his fingers moving with devastating patience, and she felt it building, slow at first, then faster, her whole body orienting toward his hand. She kept her palm pressed against him through his jeans, feeling him hard against the denim, feeling the way his hips moved in time with hers, the way he was losing control right alongside her.
"Jake—" she said. "I'm close—"
"I've got you." His voice rough against her ear. "Let go. I've got you."
The orgasm hit her like lightening. She buried her face in his shoulder, her nails digging into his back, her whole body shuddering around his fingers. He kept the rhythm through it, drawing it out, his other arm tight around her waist holding her steady.
When she finally went limp against him, he slowly withdrew his hand. She watched, dazed, as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean his eyes never leaving hers.
Something about the sight of it, made her pussy clench.
She reached up, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him down for another kiss. She tasted him—coffee and rain and the faint taste of herself on his tongue. She kissed him deeper, hungrier, and he groaned against her mouth, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
Then the lights came on. They both froze, blinking at the sudden harsh light, their ragged breathing loud in the silence.
"Shit," Jake whispered against her mouth.
She looked toward the stairs. No one. But the power was back on, which meant anyone could walk up here at any moment.
"We should—" she started.
"Yeah," he said, but he kissed her again. "Fuck, Maya—"
She laughed. "Later. We have to—"
"I know." He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, chest heaving. "I know."
He straightened her clothes, fixing her trousers, smoothing her sweater, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The tenderness of it made her melt. Then he adjusted himself with a wince, and she felt a rush of satisfaction that she wasn't the only one wrecked.
They gathered their things in a hurry, shoving laptops and notebooks into bags, the thermoses clinking together. Jake handed her his hoodie as they descended the stairs, even though the rain had stopped.
Outside, the campus was wet and empty in the way that only post-storm nights could be. They stopped at the bottom of the library steps, and he turned to her, his hair still damp, his expression completely open.
"Text me when you're in." He said.
"Okay." She smiled.
He kissed her forehead. " I'll see you tomorrow."
She nodded and walked back across campus alone, drizzle cold on her face, thermos warm in her hands. And between her legs, a low persistent ache that made her smile every time she remembered.
Elena looked up when the door opened.
Maya walked in with wet hair and a smile plastered on her face. She dropped her bag by her desk, sat on the edge of her bed.
Elena watched her.
"Okay," Elena said.
Maya didn't respond. She was picking at a loose thread on her sweater, her expression distant.
"Okay," Elena said. "No, seriously. What is wrong with you?"
Maya didn't answer, she was still smiling at Nothing.
"Maya." Elena threw a pillow at her.
Maya blinked. "What?"
"Why the hell are you smiling like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like a fucking clown. It's creepy." Elena stood up, crossing the room. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened."
"Bullshit." Elena grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. "Spill."
Maya looked down at her hands. Her smile got bigger. "Nothing happened."
"Oh my god." Elena's eyes widened. "It was Jake, wasn't it?."
"How did you—"
"Because you're smiling like a Cheshire cat! And Riley told me Jake was bringing you coffee, he didn't know if you were still at the library—"
You're texting Riley?"
"Don't try to change the subject, Maya." Elena grabbed her pillow. "What happened? Tell me everything. Did he kiss you? Did you guys—"
"No!" Maya shrieked, her face burning. "Oh my god, it's not like that. We didn't—we didn't do that. I mean, not exactly that, but—"
Elena gasped. "Oh my god, Maya. Tell me everything."
"My friend has turned into a slut," She said grinning."I can't believe this is my life."
"Don't call me that!"
"A library slut!" Elena fell back onto her bed, kicking her legs, giggling. "Start from the beginning."
Maya hugged her knees. The words came tumbling out, how nervous she'd been, how hot the room felt, how skilled his fingers were, the sounds he made, the way he'd looked at her like she was the only thing in the room.
Elena had her pillow pressed over her face. She was biting it. When Maya finished, Elena screamed into the fabric, then emerged, her face red, her hair wild.
"You nasty!" she shrieked. "You absolute freak! In the library? On a table?" She clutched her chest. "Oh my god. I'm going to combust."
Maya buried her face in her hands, laughing. "Stop being dramatic."
"Never!" Elena jumped up, grabbing Maya's hands and pulling her off the bed. "He ran across campus in the rain with your coffee and then gave you an orgasm on a table? Okay Jake I respect that."
Maya laughed. "I'm going to go shower, you're crazy."
Elena was already in bed, when Maya came back from the bathroom.
"Better?" Elena asked, not looking up from her phone.
"Yeah." Maya climbed into bed, pulling the blanket to her chin.
They talked for a while.
Eventually Elena yawned, and rolled over. "Sleep. You look like you got hit by a truck."
"Thanks."
"A happy truck."
Maya laughed softly and turned off her lamp.
She was almost asleep when her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
She fumbled for it, squinting at the screen.
Jake calling
She answered, voice thick with sleep. "Hey."
"Hey." A pause. "Did I wake you?"
"Not really." She rolled onto her side, pressing the phone closer. "What's up?"
"I—" He exhaled, "I forgot to ask you
something. Earlier. In the library. I meant to, but then everything…"
Her stomach fluttered. "Okay?"
"There's a team retreat this weekend. Cabins, nothing fancy. I was wondering if you'd want to come. With me."
She blinked into the dark. "Really?"
"Yeah." A small laugh. "I mean, why not? Unless you don't want to be seen with me."
"No," she said quickly. "No, I do. I was just surprised."
"So… you'll come?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling into her pillow. "I'll come."
"Okay." He said. "Goodnight, Maya."
"Goodnight, Jake."
She set the phone down. Across the room, Elena was already breathing slow and even, asleep.
Maya stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then she rolled over and let herself drift off.
The next morning Maya woke to drawers opening and closing. Elena was already dressed sitting on her bed with a coffee cup.
"Finally, she's awake," Elena said, not looking up from her phone.
Maya groaned and buried her face in her pillow. "Barely."
"I have a group meeting at ten," Elena continued. "Stats project. Apparently we're building something in SPSS and nobody knows what they're doing, including the TA."
Maya rolled onto her back. "I don't have anything until one."
"Must be nice," Elena muttered.
"So," Maya said.
Elena looked up. "So."
"Jake asked me to the retreat. Last night."
"Yeah? That's good. I'm happy for you." Elena said.
Maya hesitated, picking at her blanket. "I want you to come with me."
Elena blinked. "Why?"
"I don't know." Maya shrugged, suddenly shy. "You're my best friend. And Chloe's still MIA. It'd just be… less weird. If you were there."
Elena leaned back on her hands, considering. "You want me to third-wheel your romantic football retreat?"
"You wouldn't be third-wheeling," Maya said quickly. "Riley's going."
Elena's face changed immediately. "I don't— I'm not—"
"Yea yea, sure whatever you say."
Elena huffed, grabbing her bag, pretending to think about it. "Well. I suppose I can't let you wander into a cabin full of emotionally stunted linebackers alone."
Maya laughed. "They're not all—"
"Hungry cavemen," Elena finished firmly. She stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'm coming for safety reasons."
"Of course."
"And also," Elena added, pausing at the door, "if Riley happens to be there, I will tolerate his presence."
"Sure you will."
Elena blew her a kiss. "Go back to sleep, scandalous woman. Your class isn't until one."
"Get out," Maya muttered, but she was smiling.
The door clicked shut, Maya sank back into her pillow, and drifted back to sleep.
Saturday morning, Maya packed a bag and met Jake at the bus. Riley found Elena immediately. They sat together, and as the highway parted ahead of them, Jake laced his fingers through hers. She watched Oregon go by, the highway stretching ahead.