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Mark woke to the sound of Rachel humming in the kitchen. He shuffled in, rubbing his eyes, and found her pouring coffee, hair loose around her shoulders, her smile bright in a way he hadn’t seen in years.
“Morning,” she said cheerfully, sliding a mug toward him. “Sleep well?”
“Not really.” He took the mug and sat at the counter. His stomach still knotted when he replayed the image of David’s hand resting on her knee. Rachel sat across from him, chin in her palm, eyes sparkling. “Last night was fun, wasn’t it?”
He stared into his coffee. “Fun for you, maybe. I didn’t like it.” She tilted her head. “You didn’t like seeing me light up? Laughing, flirting, alive? Mark, it’s been a long time since I felt that.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “It felt wrong. Like I was losing you right in front of me.”
“You weren’t losing me,” she said, voice soft but firm. “You were sitting right there. I was yours the whole time.” Her smile sharpened. “But you can’t deny there was a spark. I felt it. He felt it. You saw it.”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t want to do it again.” Rachel leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I do. I really want to. There’s no harm in it. It’s just flirting. Just drinks. And I can’t stop thinking about how it felt.”
He swallowed. “Rachel..”
She leaned around the counter, brushed her lips against his ear. “I touched myself last night thinking about it,” she whispered. “Thinking about him. Thinking about you watching me. Don’t you want me that turned on again?”
Mark’s face went hot. The shame curled with an undeniable pulse low in his stomach. He wanted to tell her no, to put an end to it, but the image she painted burned through his resistance.
Rachel kissed his cheek, then leaned back, eyes playful and bright. “One more time. Just drinks, just talking. Let me have that spark again.” Mark exhaled, defeated. “Fine. But that’s it. Just drinks.”
Her smile bloomed. “Perfect.” She reached for her phone, thumbs flying. Mark frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Messaging David.”
“What? Already?” He tried to grab her wrist, but she slid away, grinning.
“I’m not wasting time. He’ll love to hear from me.” She typed quickly: Had such a great time last night. We should do it again soon. Maybe somewhere more private?
Mark’s stomach dropped. “Rachel, no. Not here. Not in our house.”
She looked up from her phone, eyes gleaming. “Why not? It’s safer than a bar. No strangers watching. Just us. You’d be there the whole time.”
“Absolutely not,” he said firmly, but his voice lacked the steel he wished it carried.
Rachel only smirked, thumb hovering over send. “Relax. I’m just planting the idea.”
Mark’s chest tightened as he watched her tap the screen, the faint whoosh of the message slicing the quiet morning. “Rachel,” he whispered, disbelief flooding his voice.
She sipped her coffee and smiled at him sweetly, as if nothing at all had happened. “See? You worry too much.” Mark stared at her across the counter, his pulse hammering, realizing she was moving faster than he could control.