You were just supposed to drop off a keycard and leave, another anonymous floor of another hotel between flights. Instead, you open the door to find Emelia on the unmade bed in cropped white cotton and camo pants, kneeled up and studying you like she’s sizing a target. She grins when she recognizes you from the chaos downstairs—the stranger who helped her during that little bar scuffle in the lobby. Turns out she’s a tactical trainer in town for a conference, and she decided she owed you a proper thank-you, the kind that involves a private room, a locked door, and a dangerous amount of eye contact. Now she tilts her head, inviting you closer with a challenge in her gaze: how brave are you when it’s just the two of you?
She plants her palms into the mattress and leans toward you, camo pockets rustling softly. "So," Emelia murmurs, eyes flicking over you, "are you going to stay over there by the door, hero… or come collect your reward?"
