Dark Museum

Sophia

The subway car was too quiet as Sophia crouched in the conductor's booth, too aware of the draft. She'd left her panties under the seat in her hurry to hide. The dress covered everything, but couldn't hide what she'd done.

She tucked her skirt between her legs before glancing at the empty window above her.

He just had to chase those voices, she thought, wishing Josh had stayed to hide with her until everything calmed down. Ajay and Demetri and Kieron could have been arguing about anything.

Because of the darkness outside the car and the lights inside, she wasn't even sure she'd seen Demetri at the window or if her own guilty conscience manufactured a reason for her to get out from under Josh, rendering a beautiful experience embarrassing. She could still feel him intimately, pulsing like the silence.

She tightened her skirt around her legs.

Years of fantasizing and she couldn't be cool, couldn't keep her mind from racing, from trying to salvage things when all Josh was doing that moment was protecting her.

Leaning her head against the cool control box, she listened: listened for the voices, listened for Josh returning.

She sighed.

It seemed like they'd known each other for ages. The museum gave her no way of telling time, how many days or weeks or months had passed, but she'd put in the effort with him. This wasn't an encounter with a guy at a bar or a pressured hook-up with a date who'd spent too much money on dinner and expected a return. Sophia and Josh had been kidnapped, and in working together to solve their problem, they'd gotten to know each other well in a short time.

Although, she didn't know how he dressed when he wasn't performing or scrambling for clothes in a locked building.

Or if he'd ever been pressured into sex before.

Before now.

After a furtive peek out the window, Sophia stood and returned to the cabin to retrieve her underwear. Normally, the floor of the subway would be teaming with filth. Only dust caked the dark corners of this car, shuffled out of the way by where the cushions had been. Shuffled by their movements.

How did a conversation lead to that?

Rather than slip into the undies, she sat on the bench and pressed her fist against her forehead.

"A conversation like that," she muttered.

"It feels like you've been with me forever, right in my ear," she'd said, stroking the one part of his ego to work in her favor. Even if the sentiment were true, she'd known what she was doing.

He was vulnerable after telling her he'd accidentally killed his dad, a story that should have sent her scrambling for space, at least until she understood what had happened a little better.

He probably wants space.

They'd have to see each other again, stuck in this place for God knew how long.

She got up and triggered the doors open, but on her first step outside, narrowly avoided stepping in a small, white viscous puddle.

Sophia's mouth hung open in disgust, her balled-up underwear held tight to her racing heart. Demetri had been there, and he'd watched. He'd watched and gotten off.

"Oh my god," she croaked.

With quick, but silent movements, she swung her head in both directions, checking the shadowy station. He was gone, but his eyes stayed on her.