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It's after 8 p.m., and I should be safely ensconced in my bed, reading through social media while the rain falls outside, but I am not. I finished my shift at 6 p.m., but I stayed an extra few minutes. Those extra minutes made the difference between leaving home and waiting an additional two hours. I lingered because I wanted to talk a little longer with M who is a colleague and friend, or so I tell myself. She recently transferred to my workplace from another branch, and we connected immediately. Everyone thinks we are the ideal friendship duo, but we know it's more than that. We have an undertone of passion between us even at the best of times, but it is noticeable at moments like this. There's a very solid entity in the room with us.

I was assigned to show her around on her first day here as the most recent addition to the team. I was at my duty point when I was called to meet our newly transferred staff. She was sitting demurely in Mr. A’s office when I walked in. I got the distinct feeling he had been trying to get her to see him out of the office on unofficial business when I walked in. The relief on her face when I walked in gave him away. He was half sitting on his desk with a lewd smirk on his face midsentence. He immediately got up and changed the topic when I walked in, but I am familiar with his game; I had to endure it the first few weeks I was here, just until I was able to convince a male friend of mine to act as my fiancé.

Normally, I hate to be the one to show people around, but she made it fun. I didn’t have to pretend to be this righteous employee who lived and breathed the job. I had scarcely shown her a third of the office when she asked how quickly we could round it up. She had on the most gorgeous pair of green heels that looked like hell on her feet. I could relate, and quickly cut it short, I took her to the staff lounge to hide away for a few minutes until sufficient time had passed and we could make a reappearance. While we were in the lounge, I noticed she spent an inordinate amount of time staring at my lips and eyes while I talked. Not to mention the light touches on my wrist and forearm while she spoke. I thought I may have imagined it until she commented about my lips looking soft and luscious. What do you say to that?

We were inseparable, and everyone got used to us being joined at the hip whenever we worked together. I loved the days we worked the same shift the best. We would time our arrival so we could walk in and change together. I could zip all of my clothes unaided, but whenever she was there, I would pretend to not know how to just so I could feel her breath on my shoulders and her fingers at the nape of my neck while she zipped my dress. I could pretend like it was harmless fun because we never went to each other’s homes. She and I both lived in tiny places with a lot of people, so we were hesitant to invite anyone to join the horde. She made me feel desirable. I am currently in the middle of a dry spell. I broke up with my last boyfriend, and I’m yet to jump back into the dating pool. I thought flirting with her was fun. We would be walking through a door, and she’d place her hand on my lower back to play at guiding me inside. No one saw anything wrong with what we did because we’re both female, and girls are usually expressive.

After a long day of being in each other’s space, we’d go home and jump on a video call. She usually called me as soon as she came in the door, and then we would remain on the call while she changed into something more comfortable. The first time she took off her bra in front of me, I was gob-smacked. She made light of it, saying we were both girls and it didn’t mean anything, but it did. I spent the whole of that night dreaming of her areolas and how her nipples tightened in the cold air of her room. The next time she wanted to strip in front of me, I found an excuse to end the call and did that for a couple of days till she noticed and started tilting the camera away from her body when she took off all her clothes. But that did little to douse the sexual tension. I kept looking for excuses to talk to her and be with her.

One time we were supposed to go see a movie together, but I chickened out at the last minute, claiming a surprise period. But we both knew I was lying about it. I just didn’t feel like I could control myself with her beside me in a dark cinema. In that dark room, with just our thoughts, I'm not sure I would be able to stop myself from turning my face to hers if she turned to me to comment. It's different during the day; the harsh fluorescent light of the office makes it easier to ignore her sexual appeal. Now, we only see each other in brightly lit public places like her grandma's burial two weeks ago and my cousin's wedding on Saturday, where we can pretend to mask our sexual tension with friendship. It was supposed to remain that way, but I think everything is about to change tonight.

The rain doesn’t look like it will let up anytime soon. I may have to take her up on her offer to stay in her room while she works the overnight shift. I know she will take a break by midnight and will come to her room until she has to leave by 4 a.m. And I also know that she would insist we share that tiny bed. I will take her up on her offer. What is life without risks? She could come back tired, and we could spend the night fast asleep, seemingly unaware of each other.

I’ve been lying on this bed in this dark room for over an

hour. I tried to go to sleep, but my pulse was leaping with anticipation. I could have left by 9 p.m. when the rain let up a little, but I was hesitant to suffer myself through what promised to be a wet, long journey home. I thought I had more self-control, but it seems my body doesn’t. I wish she would come in tired, but it’s a quiet night. The rain has succeeded in keeping everyone away. I have tried counting sheep and listening to playlists that are said to induce sleep. Nothing is working. As the clock ticks slowly to midnight, my heart races faster. I can hear light footfalls in the hallway. She’s knocking at the door.

“Babe, open up,” she says. I usually like it when she calls me babe, but this time it’s making my heart beat faster. I don’t like it very much right now. I almost feel faint from excitement.

"Hi,” I whisper as I open the door with my cold fingers.

“I love your sexy nightwear. Did you wear it on my account?” She replies with a smirk. “I left a few minutes early. I got bored sitting there. Did I wake you?” She continues without giving me a chance to reply. I smile, and she walks in after me. She shuts the door with an ominous click.

I lay down quietly, listening to her get ready for bed. I hear the faint clatter of her pens as she drops them on the desk, the swish of her hair as she takes off her wig, the ruffle of her scrubs as she removes them, and finally the whisper of silk as she put on her nightgown. Surprisingly, my heart rate appears to have calmed now that she's here.

Finally, she climbs into bed with me and does not attempt to pretend to want to keep some space between us. I can feel the entire length of her body turned towards me.

“Look at me,” she says. I turn to her.

“I’m glad you're here with me tonight," she said while tucking a stray strand of hair from my face.