The restaurant was alive with noise, cutlery clinking, glasses chiming, laughter rising and falling like waves. Warm light spilled across white tablecloths, and somewhere a violin hummed softly through the speakers. To anyone watching, it was just another family dinner.
But beneath the table, beneath polite smiles and small talk, hunger burned.
Lena sat two seats away from her mother's boyfriend, Victor, pretending to focus on the menu. She was twenty-four, confident, sharp-eyed, not a girl, not innocent. And yet the way her pulse thudded every time she felt his gaze skim across her skin made her feel dangerously undone.
He shouldn't look at her like that.
She shouldn't want him to.
Yet every time their eyes met, something sparked. Brief, electric, forbidden.
She rose first.
"Excuse me," she said casually. "Restroom."
Victor followed barely a minute later.
The hallway leading to the restrooms was dimmer, quieter, a narrow corridor away from the noise and the eyes. The moment Lena pushed open the restroom door and stepped inside, the world changed.
The door shut behind him with a soft click.
Silence.
The air was cooler here, smelling faintly of soap and citrus. She stood at the mirror, pretending to check her lipstick, when she felt him behind her, not touching, just close enough that the heat of him wrapped around her back.
"You shouldn't have followed me," she said quietly.
"You shouldn't have looked at me like that all night," he replied.
Their eyes met in the mirror.
The restraint between them snapped.
He turned her gently, but urgently, pressing her back against the counter. His hands came to her waist first, respectful for exactly one heartbeat, then sliding higher, gripping her hips like he'd been holding back for hours.
Her breath caught.
"This is insane," she whispered.
His mouth hovered inches from hers. "Then stop me."
She didn't.
Their lips crashed together, not slow, not careful, hungry, desperate, starved of what they'd denied themselves too long. Her fingers buried into his jacket, pulling him closer, her body arching instinctively into his.
The kiss deepened, messy and consuming.
Not just mouths, intent.
He traced his thumb along her jaw, down her neck, lingering there, making her shiver. Her hands roamed over his shoulders, his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing just as wildly as hers.
Every sound felt too loud.
Every second felt stolen.
"You're dangerous," he murmured against her lips.
She smiled breathlessly. "You're the one who followed me."
His hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her tighter, their bodies pressing together in a way that made the air between them disappear. The tension was thick, heavy, vibrating through every nerve.
Then she froze.
Footsteps outside.
Voices.
Someone laughed in the hallway.
They broke apart just slightly, breathing hard, foreheads touching.
"That was close," she whispered.
"Everything about this is close," he replied.
But instead of pulling away, she kissed him again, slower now, deeper, more deliberate, as if savoring every second they shouldn't be having.
His fingers slid into her hair, tilting her head just right, his mouth tracing along her jaw, her cheek, back to her lips. Every touch was restrained… and somehow that made it worse. Better. More unbearable.
She pressed her palm flat against his chest, feeling his heart hammer beneath it.
"You're going to ruin me," she said softly.
His voice was low. "You already have."
Another voice sounded outside, her mother's this time.
"Victor?"
They froze.
Reality snapped back into place like cold water.
Lena pulled away first, eyes wide, pulse racing. He stepped back too, smoothing his jacket, breathing slowly, carefully, forcing control back into his posture.
"Go," he whispered.
She opened the door, slipping out first, face calm, lips still faintly swollen, heart still roaring in her chest.
Victor followed moments later, composed, quiet, impossible to read.
At the table, their eyes met once more.
This time, neither smiled.
Because they both knew.
That bathroom wasn't the end.
It was the beginning of something that would be much harder to walk away from.