"Doesn't matter," Amber affirmed. "They could walk in on us." Better not to start up bad habits, anyway-- in a way, she already had, calling Eric into the changing room when she'd wanted to talk to him last week, and taunting him Friday evening with her strut to the elevator. Having set the precedence, it was up to her to break it.

(And from previous experience, Amber knew she'd never be satisfied with just a kiss or a hug or a flirtatious chat—she shouldn’t tempt herself into even considering the possibility of finding an unoccupied room.)

Satisfied that Eric accepted her limits so quickly, Amber returned to her seat, crossing her legs once more and opening up to the page where she'd left off. Back to synucleinopathies.

Or so it would've been, hadn't Eric started up yet another conversation. Finishing the sentence she'd started, Amber looked up again impatiently. He was interrupting her train of thought. But for all her annoyance that he wasn't letting her focus on what could be the key information to a future diagnosis, it was impossible to resist his cheerfulness. He was so cute this way and-- better-- Amber knew it was because of her. Flattering. And hadn't she dressed up for him? Holding back the smile tugging at her lips, Amber played with the tips of her hair. "Okay," she answered. "Met up with this guy, had some fun with him. Caught up on my reading, too."