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“A shower,” I said, “would genuinely save my life.”
“Go on, then. Towels are on the rail. Don’t use all the hot water, I might want another one.”
I locked myself in the bathroom, stripped off a day’s worth of trains and conferences and stood under the water with my eyes closed. It was glorious. Hot, hard, the good kind of hotel shower that hammers your shoulders flat. For about three minutes I forgot there was a beautiful stranger in a towel on the other side of the door.
Then I heard the lock turn. It was one of those bathroom locks you can open from outside with a coin.
“Don’t panic,” Priya said through the steam. “I’m not a murderer. I just had a thought.”
The shower screen was frosted, but not that frosted. I could see her shape. I watched the towel drop to the floor.
“The thought,” she said, “is that I’ve been single for a year, I’m on holiday, and a man just walked into my room and was nicer about it than most of my dates.” She paused. “And you’ve got a very nice back. I looked.”
“Priya…”
“I’m asking,” she said. “Can I come in? You can say no. I’ll go back out and we’ll never mention it.”
My cock had already answered for me. It was standing up under the water like it had been called on in class.