Slowly, snippets from the world find their way into my porcelain cocoon. Footsteps creak the floorboards above, a high-pitched squeal. Easy to ignore until the bathroom door eases open. I smother a groan, not in the mood to be rejecting these chicks all night. I want a few minutes of Foster before giving everyone Adams again.

But when I roll my head to the side, my face illuminates at the same time I see Remi’s. She’s so goddamn gorgeous, her hair in a clip, strands framing her face. She must not notice me in her rush for the tub, forcing the opposite glass door down the track. My lips twitch even before she freezes and jerks her head in my direction.

“Shit,” she exhales.

Her attention switches to the door and the heavy footfalls coming down the corridor. I stay with my head tipped back and watch her struggle over the choice presented.

I’m an asshole for enjoying the panicked glances between me and the unknown. I’m fucking hopeless for my smile when she crawls into the tub in her chunky black boots.

I move a leg, bringing up my knee more to shift my own boot. She lowers beside the other. Metal scrapes metal as she drags the door into place, and she winces at the harsh noise. The glass on that one has more scratches. It’s hazy and nearly opaque.

She kills the light a few seconds ahead of the door swinging inward.

Colt halts, staring at the broken mirror above the sink, then he rotates with his own phone’s flashlight and blinds me.

“I have so many jokes about you being washed up,” he says.

Remi’s sunk down at the other end, trying to hide. I wonder if she realizes she’s latched onto my leg. Resisting the urge to look at her, I nod at Colt.

“Can I top?” I ask him. “That was the point, right? Find me and fuck me?”

He snorts and shoulders the door shut. “Even if I bottomed, I’d still top you from down there.”

My buddy saunters to the toilet and unzips. The grip tightens on my shin as his stream hits the dry bowl, and I lick my lips to suppress a smile. She has her eyes scrunched closed, knees tucked to the side in her attempts to blend into the shadows.

Once finished, Colt starts to reach for the handle before thinking it through. No water. Instead, he considerately closes the lid. While rotating for the door, his light sweeps over the glass, but he catches the doorknob, not mentioning the hunched form across from me.

Then he looks over. “Enjoy your bath, motherfucker.”

He zeros in on Remi’s exact location, a smirk forming on his way out. The latch clicks and plunges the room to black. The near silence returns, only this time with two sets of breaths.