Ankita's Misfortune Ch. 01

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction, crafted from my imagination and narrative instincts. While I acknowledge that no story is created in a vacuum--and many ideas are shaped by the stories we read, live, and dream--this work remains my original creation. Any unauthorised copying, reproduction, or redistribution is strictly prohibited.

All characters in this story are fictional and above the age of 18.

Please respect the boundaries of creative ownership--and enjoy the journey.

--Harshita

I

Fifteen minutes ago, in the rising heatwave of mid-October, the gang--as they liked to call themselves--decided to chill at their usual hookah bar, "Smokes." Their final exams were over, and today was the last day to get all their assignments checked and graded. Nitesh and Omkar were done and had already left for Smokes to make a reservation. Rishabh had left too--he'd pick up his father's car from the service station and then head to Smokes.

The remaining four--Ajay, Ankita, Vineeta, and Ashwini--were the only ones still stuck at college. Ankita and Vineeta were in line, waiting to get their projects signed and graded. Since they had no vehicles of their own, Ajay and Ashwini had stayed back with them.

Ankita was the first to get her assignment graded. As she walked toward them, Ajay found himself thinking how much of an ideal girl-next-door she was. She was short, with shoulder-length hair that framed her face and drew attention to her striking hazel eyes and bright smile. Her curvy figure--with ample breasts and rounded hips--naturally turned heads wherever she went. She also had this distinctive way of walking--a slight bounce in her steps that gave her an air of playful energy.

That day, Ankita wore a snug khaki T-shirt, neatly tucked into her olive-green, baggy cargo pants, accentuating her frame. The fit of her shirt, combined with the spring in her step, made her chest bounce slightly--something Ajay couldn't help but notice. For that matter, neither could Ashwini. As soon as Ashwini caught it, she flicked her gaze toward Ajay, like she was trying to catch him red-handed. She did.

"Done and dusted, finally! No more assignments, just the wait for results now," Ankita said, sounding both relieved and exhausted.

"Vineeta?" Ashwini asked.

"I think she still has four or five people ahead of her in line. She should be out in about ten odd minutes."

"Ten? I don't think that's long," Ashwini replied. "We should wait for her, shouldn't we? Or should two of us go ahead?"

Ajay knew she was being earnest--she didn't want to leave her friend behind--but he also knew Ashwini didn't like waiting. The shorter the wait, the more easily she broke down. He also feared she wanted to leave with Ankita just so she could tell on him for looking at her breasts.

"Not a problem. Two of us can go on ahead," Ankita agreed, then turned to him and asked, barely able to hide her excitement, "Did you bring your bike to college?"

The anticipation in her voice was impossible to miss. Catching the energy, Ajay simply smiled, pulled out the keys, and tossed them over--a silent answer to both her questions: whether he brought the bike, and whether she could drive it.

**

Ankita did not drop the keys. She jumped and hugged Ajay tightly.

"Thank you so much, I've been waiting to give it a try since you said you booked one. Let's go!"

Lost in her own excitement, she failed to notice Ashwini's disappointed face--or the excitement brimming in Ajay's eyes. She just gave Ashwini a few instructions on where to wait for Vineeta and walked away with Ajay.

Ankita was crazy about bikes, and the gang knew it. She would practically beg anyone who'd listen to let her take their bike for a spin. And she was good at it. Her elder brother, an instructor in race track courses, had shown her the ropes. So she was pretty sure she could handle it better than Ajay himself. But she also knew--when you're riding an Italian for the first time, best not to be boastful about it.

And just like that, fifteen minutes had gone by. Ankita was having the time of her life on the bike. The grunts that brought the engine to life as she shifted up and down the gearbox were pure, smooth pleasure. They'd left the college far behind, unaware of what lay ahead.

Ajay held her waist firmly, yet gently, as they neared Smokes. Ankita liked Ajay--but not in that way. He was sweet, kind, and honest to a fault. The kind of person whose face betrayed every emotion he felt, making it impossible for him to lie or hide what was on his mind. There was something endearing about that--about knowing exactly what he was thinking without him having to say a word.

So yes, she liked him. As a friend.

But her adorable friend wasn't always so sweet. Ankita had, on occasion, caught him staring at her breasts. Whenever he realised she'd caught him, Ajay would turn beet red and quickly make himself scarce. Ankita found it harmless--and frankly, a little amusing--to watch him fumble and stutter in those moments. Slowly though, she realised she'd stopped reacting altogether. As if she'd just allowed him to sneak glances, relying on the confidence that she was completely covered and wouldn't reveal a thing.

Just like those times, Ankita knew he wasn't being adorable with the waist grab either. As they neared Smokes, Ajay's hands, which had initially rested near the curve of her lower back, seemed to have slowly slid along her sides, his fingers inching forward, moving across her waist towards the taut plane of her stomach. To confirm her suspicion, at the next turn, she leaned the bike more as she entered the corner. And sure enough, his hands slipped further ahead--but didn't return to their original position when they straightened up.

Even through her top, she could feel his fingers trying to map how far away her navel was.

She chuckled to herself. Never had men will be men resonated so strongly before.

Wait a minute, is this okay? she wondered.

Before she could say anything, an unseasonal October rain caught her off guard. The rain was sudden, heavy, and unrelenting, drenching everything within seconds. Ankita quickly but safely switched to the slow lane. Not only was the prickling rain on her face a concern, but Ankita was also dreading to look at what it was doing to her top.

But she had to look. And unfortunately, her fears proved right. As she glanced down, she was greeted with the deepest cleavage and a rich purple bra. It was as if the T-shirt had dissolved in the rain.

She knew they had to stop.

"Bro! We have to stop. You'll have to take over," she said out loud to Ajay--but he couldn't make out anything. The rain and traffic noises completely swallowed her words.

"What did you say?" she heard him ask over the honking cars.

Instead of repeating, she halted in front of an isolated half-baked shed and asked Ajay to get down.

"You'll have to take over the riding," she said, reading the perplexed look on his face.

He relaxed.

But as Ankita got down and turned toward him, his mouth fell wide open. His face said exactly how little her soaked top left to the imagination. Ajay couldn't take his eyes off her. She saw his gaze travel all over her body--from her chest to her flat belly, to the thin waist, and the widening hips. As his eyes drank it all in, Ankita could only cover her body in shame. One of her hands went to her bosoms, and the other covered her mostly bare belly.

"I'm so sorry, Ankita," Ajay snapped out of it and mumbled an apology. "I didn't mean to stare."

Ankita was amused by his choice of words. She saw the genuineness in his apology and knew it could get awkward fast if she dragged it out.

So instead, she tried to keep it casual.

"Dude, your jaw was practically on the ground," she said. "You were gawking at them--I mean, me." She stuttered.

Why did I do that to myself.

Maybe it was guilt, or some sense of responsibility, but Ajay began digging into his backpack.

"Wait--let me see if I can help you."

To both their dismay, Ajay couldn't find a single extra layer of clothing to cover her. Ankita, not wanting to be a passive participant in protecting her own modesty, withdrew the hand covering her belly and fished out her phone.

"This call will decide whether you drop me home or take me with you to Smokes," she said.

She called Vineeta, only to find out the girls had also been caught in the rain and ended up in a similar situation. They'd made the smart move and headed straight to Ashwini's house nearby. Which meant--they couldn't help her.

Ankita hung up and, as she was dialling another number, caught Ajay stealing glances at her again.

"Dude!" was all she said, exasperated.

The ringer tone in her ear merged with his apology. Without thinking, Ankita raised a finger to signal him to stop, her other hand still holding the phone. And instead of reaching back for her breasts, she absentmindedly covered her ear--to hear better--not realising yet that it left her chest completely exposed.

"Oh, Omkar! It's you. Where's Rishabh?" she asked.

Omkar was that friend who always took a few extra seconds to catch on--so talking to him meant keeping it simple. Real simple.

"Never mind. Listen! Yes and no answers only, okay? Does anyone there have a jacket I can wear?"

"I don't. Wait, let me ask Nitesh... He says no too. Wait! Rishabh has a jacket in his car."

"Great." Ankita pumped a victory fist in the air. "Okay, good. We're just around the corner from Smokes. Tell him to bring it outside, and let him know I owe him a 'no questions asked' favour. One favour. No strings attached. Thanks, bye."

She hung up and looked at Ajay--only to find him having a deep heart-to-heart with her breasts. It was then she realised her mistake. She waited, hoping he'd notice on his own.

A couple of seconds passed.

"What are they saying?" she asked him.

"Who?" Ajay replied, still focused on her chest.

Ankita realised this could take forever. She snapped her fingers in his face.

"Shit!" was his response. He began speaking but Ankita rolled her eyes and interrupted, "Drop it. Seriously, just drop it."

"No no! Actually, I was thinking what we could do till we reach Smokes. You obviously can't go like this. So, I was thinking--you could use this backpack to cover yourself up."

And truly, he did have his backpack in his hand.

Good save.

Without saying anything, she put the backpack in front of her, covering her torso, and sat behind him as they made their way to Smokes.

As planned, Rishabh was standing outside, puffing on his cigarette, waiting for them. By then, the rain's violence had reduced to a musical pitter-patter, but it was still pouring. Ankita got down before Ajay could even park the bike, and without wasting any time on greetings, snatched the shopping bag from Rishabh's hand and headed down the alley toward Smokes behind him.

II

Ankita entered the washroom and did a quick check to ensure she was alone. Only then did she take off the backpack. She looked hard at herself in the mirror. Before she even knew it, she had moved in closer. Suddenly, she felt like she was looking at herself from Ajay's perspective.

Cannot blame that poor chap for anything, she sniggered. You look delectable.

The first thing she noticed was the purple bra. That thing wasn't just any purple--it was 'right in your face' purple.

Isn't this your new push-up bra? Talk about unfortunate timing, said the voice again. It wasn't her. It sounded exactly like her, but it didn't act like her, nor feel like her.

As she began to dry her face with some hand towels, she thought about Ajay and what had happened earlier. It didn't bother her that he had openly ogled her wet, bra-encased breasts because, frankly, the rains weren't exactly his doing, and, honestly, she wasn't naïve enough to be surprised by his reaction.

But seriously? "What are they saying?" That's what you had to say? She shook her head wildly. But she wondered.

And why didn't you ask him to behave? Or to turn away? Or why didn't you turn away yourself? What is that supposed to mean? What's going on?

She pulled her T-shirt away and started to pointlessly wipe away the excess water.

And what was with that waist grab? You knew what he was trying to do. And you chuckled? What is up with that?

She decided to distract herself with the actual reason she'd come into the bathroom. She placed Rishabh's bag on the counter and began tugging at her T-shirt. She planned to get out of her T-shirt and bra and wear the jacket that was inside the bag. No one would be the wiser. Simple.

That was when she realised it wasn't just water making her T-shirt hard to remove. She was wearing a bodysuit T-shirt--with a clasp right at her crotch to keep it neatly tucked in. She would have to undo her pants.

Giving it only a moment's thought, she said out loud, "Well, no one would actually know," before unbuckling her belt and pulling her pants down to her knees. She quickly unclasped the bodysuit, pulled the pants back up, fastened the button and re-buckled the belt. All within seconds. She was like a one-woman pit-stop crew.

She easily peeled the now wet and heavy T-shirt over her head and placed it on the counter. She glanced at herself again.

Imagine if Ajay saw you like this instead.

Her eyes widened in shock as the meaning of her own thoughts sank in.

Do I want Ajay to see me like this? Why? What is going on with me today?

She dismissed the thought. She unhooked her bra and placed it atop the T-shirt. She began drying her torso, resisting the urge to look at herself in the mirror one more time. Her lips curled into a small smile. She couldn't help it--she was falling for the simplest trick in the book, like trying not to think of a pink elephant.

Without moving her head, she glanced at the mirror.

Ankita had never admired her own nude reflection in such a way before. She felt her breath becoming shallow and ragged with each inhale. Her breasts were a creamy shade and as unblemished as the rest of her skin. She began circling them with her fingers, feeling their softness, until goosebumps spread across her skin, making her coffee coloured nipples erect. She knew she didn't have the biggest breasts, but now, more than ever, she was proud of how firm and perky they remained without even a hint of sag.

"Damn! I bet these could give Ajay a heart attack. And I wouldn't even feel sorry."

The words left her lips before she even realised it, hanging in the air--far too loud in the sudden silence. Her breath caught.

That wasn't her inner voice.

That was her.

A slow, creeping awareness settled over her. She shifted in place, pressing her fingers into her palms, swallowing hard.

And then, suddenly, she felt dampness in her pants.

She was standing topless in a public washroom, having these thoughts, and feeling wetness in her panties. Admitting what that implied scared her more than she wanted to accept.

She promptly unbuckled her belt again and pulled her pants down to assess the situation.

It was just rainwater that had percolated from her bodysuit into her panties. But the real turmoil came from the flicker of disappointment she felt upon realising it was just rainwater.

Irritated and annoyed at herself, unsure what was going through her mind, she yanked her pants down completely, tore off her panties, and tossed them onto the pile with her bra and T-shirt.

She paused. Waited for her inner voice to say something.

But nothing.

Was it because she hadn't looked in the mirror yet? Is that what her voice was feeding on--her exposure?

She didn't dare give her inner voice any more fodder. So before she had the chance to gaze, admire, and get turned on by her own completely naked reflection, she pulled her pants back up and buttoned them shut.

After catching her breath, she found herself looking in the mirror again--at her topless reflection. And again, all her frustration seemed to melt away as sunlight filtered through the window above, spilling into the washroom in streaks. The rain had stopped. The light caught the glistening droplets of water still clinging to her sides, making them shimmer as they created delicate paths across her body.

She almost began tracing those water patterns with her fingers before realising where she actually was--and quickly pulled her pants back on. Just as she pulled the belt tight, ready to re-fasten it, the strap gave way with a sharp snap, slipping free from the buckle.

She stood there, eyes as wide as they had ever been, topless, half a belt strap in her hand and a loose cargo pant just resting on her wide hips, unsecured.

"FUCK! Fuck! What do I do now?" Ankita began hyperventilating. "Okay, okay. You need to calm down. Everything is going okay."

This is going better than I imagined. Hey! Have you checked if your pants fall down without the belt, or are you confident your wide hips will hold them in place?

She held her pants exactly where she would usually wear them and let go.

They fell--but only slightly. Her wide hips did, in fact, hold them in place. She jumped slightly, testing.

Apart from a nice jiggle of her breasts, there was barely a noticeable slippage.

Phew.

Her bad luck had seemed to stop.

Ankita began balling up her undies in her T-shirt and took the jacket out of the bag, determined to turn things around. The jacket was black, soft to the touch, and thickly woven--a proper winter jacket with a zipper running straight down the centre.

Ankita wasn't sure, but the jacket felt unexpectedly short. To check, she put it on and zipped it right up to the bottom of her chin. And yes--it was indeed short.

It must be his younger brother's jacket! she exclaimed.

Then she looked at herself in the mirror--and got a massive blow.

It was a sleeveless jacket.

She quickly turned to her side and raised her arms up. Fortunately, the armhole was just as small and revealed nothing scandalous. But with her arms raised high, the jacket ended well above the waistband of her pants, exposing her waist. And when she lowered her arms, the elastic bottom held the jacket high, keeping a portion of her midriff exposed.

Ajay would have a field day holding onto this naked waist, wouldn't he?

She froze but chose to ignore the devil in her head as she arranged the jacket back in place. There were four friends outside who had seen her in a sleeved T-shirt. With no sleeves poking out from under the jacket, they'd know something was off.

Yes. But would they guess you don't have your bra on either? Want to bet if they can?

Not paying her inner voice any heed, she patted her face with tissues again, re-did her hair the best she could without a comb, placed her clothes in the bag, and walked out.

Has Ajay already told all your friends about your brief encounter? came the parting words from her inner voice.

III

The boys were horsing around like boys do when Ankita entered the restaurant. As soon as their eyes met, Rishabh's face went pale and he muttered, "Shit." She could tell--he knew he'd messed up. The others turned in unison, their eyes widening at the sight of her. As she walked toward them, their composure faltered; they exchanged uneasy glances, swallowing hard.

What do you think they're thinking about right now? I think they must be wondering if you're even wearing anything inside.

Though their faces reflected awkwardness and discomfort, Ankita couldn't tell if it was solely due to her apparent toplessness--or if Ajay had shared what happened earlier. She felt a sudden craving for a smoke to calm her nerves, but knew the boys wouldn't let her be. So even before she returned Ajay's backpack and settled down with a hookah pipe, she clapped her hands sharply and declared, "You don't have to act like you're walking on thin ice. It's unnerving, and frankly, I've had enough... Nitesh, stop looking at me like that."

In his defence, he really was just looking at the jacket. Or he was pulling off the perfect act.

"Yes, I'm wearing the jacket Rishabh brought," she continued. "Which is probably his brother's--"

"That's why it looked so familiar," Nitesh cut in. "Hey Rishabh! Didn't you say--"

Rishabh quickly grabbed Nitesh's arm and cut him off. "Dude! Let the lady talk. We can ask questions later."

"As I was saying," Ankita resumed, now glaring at them all, "yes, I removed my top before wearing this. It's because of the rain. Ajay must've already told you my top got soaked, and I needed to cover up to avoid... public embarrassment."

She watched as the colour drained from their faces--even Ajay's. The others stared with wide eyes--first at her, then at the jacket, and then at Ajay.

"I actually just told them you were feeling cold and wanted the jacket," Ajay said softly.

Yeah! Why would you assume he shared everything? Don't you trust him enough? Or were you just too excited to let your friends know one of them saw you in your new purple push-up bra?

Ankita exhaled sharply and shook her head. "Alright, scoot," she muttered, waving Nitesh and Rishabh aside as she rubbed her forehead like it could undo the last few seconds. Once they moved, she plopped down between them with a dramatic sigh and snatched the hookah pipe from Nitesh's hand.

"Fuck," she exhaled softly, the word laced with fatigue and resignation. As she took another drag and leaned back, she glanced at Rishabh. "The only reason I removed the top was because it was soaked and I didn't want to ruin the jacket from the inside. It's a good jacket." Rishabh looked like he'd frozen in place.

She knew she didn't have to explain, but said it anyway. She was done overthinking. From now on, she'd just do whatever felt right in the moment.

They placed their orders and passed the hookah around. Within no time, the vibe returned--laughing, eating, joking--the awkwardness of earlier slipping into the background.

But soon Ankita began to feel it: lingering gazes. Not outright stares, but just a beat too long. A couple of other patrons walking past seemed to slow slightly, eyes sliding over her before exiting. That unease began creeping back.

Her chain of thought broke as Rishabh reappeared at their table.

"When did you leave?" she asked, not having realised he'd gone.

"Just a couple of minutes ago. The manager called," he said. "Guys! He has to close early because of the rains. We've got two choices: wrap up or after-party. Anyone live nearby?"

Ankita knew Ajay did, and pointed at him--only to see he was already ahead of her, thumb to chest in a yep, me gesture. Everyone stood to leave.

"The bill's settled," Rishabh said. "We can go straightaway."

Ankita reached into her pocket for her phone to pay her share. As she did, her eyes flicked downward--and for a split second, she felt like she was seeing far more of herself than she should have.

A strange chill ran down her spine. She tried to check the damage using her phone's selfie cam--but the screen stayed black. Dead. Still, she'd seen enough.

How long has the jacket been THIS unzipped? Was I this exposed the whole time?

She almost gasped out loud. The zip had slipped down--maybe halfway across her breasts. She couldn't be sure without checking properly.

This is why the boys' gazes lingered. Why those patrons slowed. They were all trying to get a peek!

Lovely! Her inside voice returned with relish.

But what now? Everyone was standing. She couldn't fix the zipper here without drawing attention. Then an idea struck her.

"Oye, Ajay!" she called out. "Mind if I use your phone? I think mine died in the rain."

"Yeah, sure. Want anything in particular?" he asked, eyes flicking down in that tell-tale way before returning to her face.

"Just want to call Zoya. Give her an update," she replied. And also confirm what exactly you boys were staring at.

"Sure," he said, handing it over. "Tell her we'll be there for a while. I've got drinks at home. Oh--and tell her we ate her favourite chicken lollipops without her." He grinned.

Ankita playfully smacked his arm as she took the phone. Zoya was her roommate and her friends knew her well. Ankita suddenly realised--this excuse could help her escape and fix everything.

Without another word, she turned and dashed to the washroom.

IV

Ankita's face contorted when she saw herself in the mirror, her bosom half exposed. She immediately zipped up the jacket right up to her chin and looked around. She was the only one there. She began to wonder.

The chain was definitely higher up when I was inside, wasn't it? It's like this because I ran, isn't it? Fuck! A bra covers me more than that. Could the boys have seen everything?

She wasn't sure when the chain had slipped so low. Could she have pulled it a little lower because she was feeling hot and the zipper didn't lock itself? She tried to remember. She closed her eyes, but all she could see was the boys glancing at her chest. She had no memory of even feeling hot enough to pull down the chain--let alone actually doing it.

"If only I'd known sooner," she muttered.

Why? Would you have fixed your clothes better, or are you just sad that you missed watching and enjoying your friends' initial reactions like you did with Ajay?

She opened her eyes and found herself staring at her blushing reflection. As a warm flush slowly crept up her neck, only one thought came to her mind--

What do I want? Do I want to just get naked in front of them? And then what--have sex with all of them? Is that what the master plan is?

No other voice responded.

"Well, I'm glad that at least you don't lie," she said to herself--and almost immediately smacked her mouth shut with both hands.

"What do I want?" she asked again, hoping for a reply.

You just want them to look at you. You want to watch them looking at you. You're a voyeur--but only of your own exhibitionism.

"Nonsense," she thought. That's not like her at all.

Well, if you don't believe me--nay, if you don't believe yourself--do what you actually came here to do. Call Zoya. Ask her.

She found herself already dialling the number. As the phone rang, she thought, What am I thinking? I'm not going to ask Zoya this. And just as she was about to hang up, Zoya answered.

"Hey Ajay! What's up?" came Zoya's voice.

"Hi! No--it's Ankita. My phone died. Probably because of the rain."

"Oh shit! Really? Damn! Did the rain get you wet?"

"Wet and much more."

"What?" Zoya asked.

Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?

"No, nothing, I just..." Ankita started deflecting, then suddenly reconsidered. "Zoya, can I tell you something?"

"Yeah, of course. What happened? Everything alright?"

Ankita began sharing what had happened on their way to Smokes--how she was driving, then it started raining, then they did a changeover because her T-shirt got soaked. Zoya interrupted, "Wait, wait. Did Ajay see you like that?"

Zoya must've definitely heard Ankita's sigh before her quiet, "Yes." Ankita had been half hoping Zoya wouldn't dig too deep.

"I mean--of all days, Zoya, today I thought, 'Hey! Last day, let me try on my new push-up bra.' It was so embarrassing. You should've seen his face--his mouth was open the entire time. He was staring at my breasts like he didn't know I had them."

Zoya burst out laughing. "Do you blame him? I sometimes look at you like that myself."

"Eww! Please stop. Anyway--I called Rishabh to ask if he had an extra jacket, but Omkar picked up..."

Ankita continued. But soon, Zoya interrupted again.

"Ankita. From whatever I've heard, it sounds like you're subtracting a lot of clothes, and I'm not sure you've got enough on to add back. Why did you remove your bra too?"

"It's not just my bra and T-shirt. I'm also not wearing my panties."

"WHAT?" Zoya shrieked on the call.

"Don't worry. I'm not crazy, I'm not naked in a restaurant. I'm just not wearing the clothes I had on this morning."

"What are you wearing then? Sorry--my main question should be WHY ARE YOU REMOVING YOUR CLOTHES LIKE A MANIAC?"

"Shhh! Listen to me first. When I snapped the bodysuit open, I realised my panties were also wet and itchy. So... seeing as I was already there, I removed them as well."

Ankita realised the reason sounded just as vague as it was hard to digest--not really telling Zoya why she did what she did.

Do you think you've to hide it from her because she might judge you?

"No, that's not it," she thought.

Do you think she'll judge you if you tell her that it turned you on when Ajay looked at you?

"NO!" she told herself firmly.

She was so wrapped in her thoughts she barely registered Zoya yelling, "ANKITA! Are you crazy? Please tell me you at least kept your pants on even though they're wet."

"Of course! I'm not mad. But that's what I meant when I said I'm not wearing what I was in the morning. I'm here outside a public place, in my friend's jacket and my pants and nothing else."

"Why don't you just go home at this point, Ankita? Isn't that enough adventure for one day?"

Ankita paused.

This is a long pause.

"Ankita?"

"What? Could you not hear me? Maybe there's a network issue," Ankita lied, with no clue why. "What I was saying was--relax. I've piggybacked with Ajay anyway, so I can't go by myself. It wouldn't look good. And I think the worst is behind me. We're leaving Smokes and going over to Ajay's. So it's fine. These are my friends. In fact, if you were home, I'd have asked you to pick me up. But no, you had to go away and leave me all alone, didn't you?"

"Oh shut up, you. I'm coming back today, aren't I?" Zoya paused, then added with a serious tone, "Ankita--take care. I'm just glad the boys don't know you're almost naked. Aren't you too?"

PAUSE.

Ankita, work on your delivery. Either think faster or master the art of lying while you're on the job. That pause is practically selling you out.

"Yes yes! I'm all right. I'll take care. Don't worry. Okay? See you then. Wish me all the best."

Zoya laughed, "Bye, you crazy weirdo. And remember--you can bail if you ever feel uncomfortable, okay?"

Oh honey. 'Uncomfortable' doesn't even begin to cover it.

Ankita tucked her hair neatly behind her ears and exhaled aloud, trying to compose herself from the Jekyll and Hyde game she was playing. She still wasn't sure why she'd really called Zoya--but now, she realised a couple of things.

Not telling Zoya the truth was deliberate.

And this new feeling--she couldn't deny it anymore.

Woah, woah. What is up with this PG-13 exposition? At least be honest with yourself.

You got turned on by how Ajay was staring at you and haven't been able to forget it.

You're more turned on now, just imagining all your friends watching you.

And you want it to happen again.

Is that really what I want?

She realised that a lot of her internal struggle wasn't even about what had happened--it was about the weight of trying to decide how she should feel about it. She hadn't stopped to actually acknowledge what she did feel. And she wasn't even sure why she'd lied to Zoya. It wasn't like her to hide something like how low the jacket chain had slipped--or the fact that the boys must have had a crystal-clear view of her breasts.

It's because if you'd told her the truth--and if she'd reacted differently--you probably wouldn't have been able to go to Ajay's.

The voice was back.

And what was worse--Ankita agreed.

She couldn't explain it, but she wanted to go over to Ajay's. Badly. Especially in her current state. Her eyes dropped to the poly bag she'd carried into the washroom. She was going to test something.

She tied her hair into a loose bun and stared at her reflection. Her heart was thumping. A warmth spread through her--part nerves, part anticipation, and part... whatever it was that she was trying not to name. But she liked it. The thrill. The openness. The danger.

Yet somewhere in her mind, the old conditioning tugged at her sleeve.

Girls aren't supposed to feel like this. Not around boys. Not like this.

But there she was, craving the intimacy it promised and battling the guilt that came with it. Still, something had settled inside her. A decision.

Now it was time to open the door--and step into the unknown.

Just as her fingers touched the handle, she heard voices on the other side.

"I think we should tell her about the jacket," said Nitesh.

"Yeah, even I think so. She's in the washroom--she's going to find out," came Ajay's voice.

"Are you both crazy?" Rishabh snapped. "And what are you going to say--that the chain on this jacket is broken and slides down on its own, but we didn't tell you because for the last hour we were all staring at your tits? How's that going to look?"

So that's what happened, Ankita thought. They did get a lifetime's worth of a view.

She chuckled silently.

"Dude! Don't say it like that. None of us saw anything. You know that."

"Yeah, like she's going to believe that. Listen, Ajay," Rishabh continued. "Because you asked, I left and settled the bill so we could leave--"

"--Because the other patrons were slowing down to look inside her jacket," Ajay cut in.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I agree--it could've gotten out of control. But now it won't matter. No one else is going to be there. So, we don't need to tell her anything. Okay?"

Silence.

Taking the pause as her cue, Ankita opened the door and stepped out--startling the trio like a ghost had walked in.

"Hello boys! What are we thinking about?" she asked with a grin.

"Uh--we were thinking how to reach his place," Rishabh replied quickly.

"I know where he lives. Come on, Ajay! Let's race them to your place," she said, bouncing excitedly on her toes.

Hey, they already think I'm dumb enough to fall for their crap. Might as well act a little dumb myself.

"No. Roads are wet from the rain. No one is racing anyone," Ajay said firmly.

"But--"

"You can still ride the bike. Let's do one thing--I'll ride with Rishabh and the boys so I can guide them. You ride solo, okay?"

"Done."

She almost forgot the little test she had planned.

"Ajay! One sec. I need your help."

"Yes?"

"Can you hold onto this bag? I won't be able to carry it on the bike."

"Yeah, of course. You shouldn't even have to ask. Just give it to me."

But she didn't hand it over immediately. She still held one end as he tugged gently.

She looked nervous--or at least made sure she looked nervous. "Promise me something. Do not open the bag, okay?"

"What?" Ajay asked, confused, holding the bag as if it contained a live grenade.

"Just... don't. I'll tell you later. Now let's go."

"Sure. See ya. And Ankita--drive safe. Roads are wet."

She smiled. "I will."

As she turned the ignition and caught Ajay's eye in the rear-view mirror, a sly thrill curled in her chest. The thought of the boys opening that bag--or just wanting to--was enough to make her grin all the way to his place.

V

Ajay's place was a two-bedroom apartment owned by his parents. They lived in Mumbai, but when it was decided that he would pursue his higher education here, they bought the flat for him. He'd had a roommate until recently, but for now, he was living alone.

Like any typical bachelor, Ajay had a stockpile of cheap alcohol, a hookah pot, and a fridge full of absolutely nothing. Yet, in contrast to the stereotype, he kept the place neat and clean.

Omkar and Nitesh took it upon themselves to set up the hookah, while Rishabh busied himself picking the right tunes to set the mood. Ajay started mixing drinks, and with everything in motion, Ankita suddenly found herself with nothing to do.

"Ajay?" she called out, her voice aimed at the entire room. "Where's the shopping bag I gave you?"

The room went still. Every boy froze.

A slow, knowing smile crept onto Ankita's lips--the most wicked one she'd ever smiled.

They know, don't they?

Ajay was the first to recover. "Don't worry about it. I kept it on the shoe rack. You can take it when you leave, okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Not a problem," she replied casually, watching as visible relief washed over them all. It was almost amusing, the way their souls seemed to re-enter their bodies.

"Should I order food?" she asked.

A chorus of yes followed, and she got to it.

Minutes later, the evening was in full swing. The hookah pot bubbled at the centre of the table, food laid out around it, while bottles and plastic cups--unable to find space--had been pushed to the floor.

Ajay had a futon in the living room, useful for anyone needing to crash overnight, so the group naturally gathered around it. Ajay, Ankita, and Omkar took the futon, Rishabh sank into a half-deflated beanbag, and Nitesh leaned comfortably against the wall.

Like everyone else, Ankita had to reach forward to grab food from the table. And as she leaned in for some fries, she noticed what would happen if she stretched just a bit more. So--she did.

With each movement, her jacket inched higher, the elastic hem slowly creeping up her torso. Each time she reached out, the fabric lifted a little more, until what had once been a cosy oversized jacket had effectively transformed into a woollen crop top. Her entire midriff was now on display.

She tried to recall if she'd ever worn a crop top around the boys before.

Well, it is the last day of college, she thought, shrugging the concern away. Just hours ago, she would've been mortified by the idea of debating whether it was okay for the boys to see her belly button. But ever since Smokes, she'd been operating on instinct. And those instincts--bold, thrilling, and a little wicked--told her she wasn't going to stop here.

The boys, after a few drinks, had stopped pretending. Like clockwork, they took turns sneaking glances--at her smooth stomach, at the deepening valley of her cleavage. From where Rishabh and Nitesh sat, they had a clear view of both. What she didn't realise was that when Ajay and Omkar leaned back against the wall, their angle allowed them to see even more--the graceful curve of her back, the beginnings of her peach-shaped ass peeking out as the jacket rode higher.

She assumed--correctly--that none of them had ever been in a moment quite this sexually charged before. And she could feel it. She could feel the shift in the way they looked at her now.

The emotional high from their stolen glances coursed through her veins, a heady rush that countered the cheap alcohol in the best way possible. Their gaze had power--and that power made her feel electric.

And she wasn't done yet.

Amidst the easy laughter and rambling conversations, Nitesh suddenly spoke up.

"You're so cool, Ankita."

She nearly choked on her drink. The room fell silent. The other boys exchanged nervous glances before turning to her, bracing for impact.

"In fact, all of you--you, Vineeta, Ashwini--you're all so cool," Nitesh continued, his voice loose and slurred from one too many drinks. "You're open to trying new things, you can out-drink the boys, you smoke hookah, you vibe to the best music... Amazing! I'm glad you're our friends."

Ankita relaxed, exhaling slowly through her nose--but then suddenly became aware of just how much skin she was showing. Casually, she tugged her jacket's hem down, as if that might erase the show she'd been putting on all evening. She scooted back against the wall--a move meant to feel more modest, though all it really did was shift the fabric again.

"... And especially you, Ankita," Nitesh added, oblivious.

Oh no.

She silently prayed someone would cut him off before he said something worse.

Which, of course, meant that he did say something worse.

"You're like... one of the hottest girls I've ever come across."

It wasn't just Ankita--Ajay spat out his drink too.

Before anyone could recover--or before Nitesh could dig his own grave any deeper--Omkar let out a dramatic sigh and set down his cup.

"Houston, we have lift-off."

He stood, grabbed Nitesh by the arm, and hoisted him to his feet. "Okay, time to go. I'll drop him home before he makes more confessions. Then I'll head back myself. It's late anyway. What do you guys say?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Rishabh jumped in, clearly grateful for the save. "No issues. Just text when you get home."

Ankita seized the opportunity to make her own exit. "I'll just use the loo," she announced, getting up from the futon.

But as she bent forward to push herself up, she unknowingly gifted them all with a slow, unintentional show--her cleavage spilling into view as she leaned in, giving each of them a turn to take in the sight. And as she straightened, still unaware, she did something worse--mooning Ajay in the process.

VI

Ankita looked at her reflection, Nitesh's words still buzzing in her head.

He called me hot. Was it just because of the way I was dressed?

She ran her fingers over her bare stomach, as if tracing the places where their eyes had lingered.

Do they actually think I'm hot? Or was it all just... situational?

She exhaled slowly, her chest rising and falling as she held her own gaze in the mirror.

Did it matter?

Because regardless of why they were looking at her, the fact remained--they were looking. And she liked it. She wanted them to look.

A slow, knowing smile crept onto her lips.

She washed her face, untied her hair and tied it back again--higher this time. Her fingers hovered over the zipper of her jacket, but she didn't pull it up. Instead, she folded the bottom neatly into itself, turning it into a proper crop top. The chain still hung low, teasing just enough of her cleavage without fully exposing her breasts.

The pants were trickier. She slid her hands into the pockets and inched them down slightly, feeling the waistband dip just below her hips. For a moment, it felt dangerously easy to push them even lower. Ankita bit her lip, considering it--then pulled them up just enough to stay in place.

She tilted her head, surveying herself in the mirror one last time.

Let destiny play her game.

She stepped out of the washroom and found Ajay and Rishabh waiting.

The moment they saw her, their eyes widened, flickering over her with the same trapped, mesmerised stare she had seen earlier.

She smirked. Gotcha.

Feigning innocence, she tilted her head. "What? Am I looking bad?"

The way they scrambled to respond almost made her laugh.

"No! No, it's not like that," Ajay rushed to say. "In fact, you look... great."

Then, as if desperately searching for a neutral topic, he added, "Did you re-do your hair?"

Ankita nearly rolled her eyes.

Yes, Ajay. My jacket's zipper hasn't moved an inch up, my top is suddenly shorter, my pants are hanging lower than before, but sure--let's talk about my hair.

She bit back a grin. This was going to be fun.

"Yes, tucked it into a high pony so that I can rest my head a bit," she said as she walked towards the futon, seemingly reclaiming her spot. But instead of sitting upright, she stretched out on her back, sprawling across the length of it, her feet casually settling onto Ajay's legs.

"I hope you don't mind," she added--not really asking--before making herself comfortable.

Rishabh shifted his beanbag, moving closer until he was directly across from them.

Ankita could only imagine the view he had. From his perspective, Ajay was propped against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, while she lay sprawled across the futon, using his legs like a makeshift cushion. The cool air from the AC ghosted over her exposed midriff, a silent confirmation that Rishabh had an unobstructed view of her bare stomach and the soft swell of her breasts peeking from her unzipped jacket.

They first addressed the awkwardness of Nitesh's drunken confession. Ankita brushed it off with a casual, "We all know how lightweight he is. So it's okay. And it's not like he said anything mean."

She watched them carefully for any reaction, but neither boy gave much away. A small shift in posture, a brief flicker of the eyes--nothing substantial.

So, they continued like before, music humming in the background, conversation ebbing and flowing. But after a while, Ankita realised--nothing was happening.

Not that she had expected anything, but she had anticipated something.

Maybe I should have sat up first, played it slow, then feigned sleepiness. That might've led to... something.

That thought alone sent a slow pulse of excitement through her.

It was too late to reset the scene, but she could still play her part.

She stretched lazily, arching her back just enough to make her jacket shift higher, then let out a soft, drowsy sigh. As if on cue, a yawn followed. She rolled slightly to one side, shifting against Ajay's legs, squirming just enough for it to look natural. The movement dislodged a few strands of her ponytail, letting them fall over her face, obscuring her eyes from the boys.

Perfect.

From behind that thin veil of hair, she could see them clearly--Ajay and Rishabh, frozen in place, their eyes darting between her exposed stomach and her barely-covered chest. A slow, heady thrill coursed through her.

She was playing at sleep, but her body was wide awake.

Ajay was the first to break.

"Ankita? Are you asleep?" His voice was low, hesitant.

She didn't respond.

Rishabh repeated the question, softer this time.

A pause. Then a silent exchange between the boys--Rishabh gesturing at Ajay to shake her, to check if she was really asleep. Ajay shook his head, unwilling. Rishabh then suggested a different approach.

"Just sprinkle some water on her."

Ankita wasn't sure why that seemed like a better idea to Ajay, but she saw him run his hand over the outside of his glass, gathering condensation on his fingers before flicking a few drops onto her stomach.

The chill shot through her instantly.

She had expected it, had prepared for it--but fuck, it was still cold.

Her muscles tensed, her skin erupted in goosebumps. Every instinct screamed at her to react. But she didn't.

She stayed perfectly still.

The boys chuckled softly to themselves, their amusement lighthearted at first. Ajay's laughter had an almost toddler-like innocence to it, as if he genuinely found the situation funny.

Then, without thinking, he reached out and brushed his hand over her stomach to wipe off the droplets.

It was an automatic, thoughtless action--until it wasn't.

Ajay's fingers froze mid-motion. His face stiffened as he realised what he was doing.

Bare skin against bare skin. His chilled fingers gliding over the smooth plane of her stomach, cool from the condensation of his drink.

Ankita felt the goosebumps rise instantly, a shiver rippling through her flesh. She saw Rishabh mouth something to Ajay, but she couldn't focus on that. She was too caught up in the way his touch felt--foreign, unsure, but intoxicating. Not her own.

She barely had time to process it before she sensed movement.

Rishabh was no longer across from them. He was beside her now.

She shut her eyes just as she felt his gaze shift toward her face, her breathing carefully even, forcing herself to stay still.

Then she felt it.

Another hand.

A second, warmer palm settling onto her stomach, moving in the opposite direction of Ajay's touch.

Rishabh.

Ankita's pulse kicked up.

She was dying to open her eyes, to see what was happening--to see them--but something told her this was still a test. They were still unsure.

But God, that didn't mean she wasn't enjoying it.

Fingertips ghosting over her stomach, one set tracing lightly upward, the other teasing downward. Each movement delicate, hesitant, like they were trying to memorise the feel of her.

Her body was screaming for more.

She thought that if she stayed still, the caressing would continue--maybe even escalate--but it stopped. Abruptly.

Now, two hands simply rested on her stomach.

Rishabh's hand closer to her breasts.

Ajay's lower, near the waistband of her pants.

Her mind spiralled, imagining where things could go, how she might react.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the first hand withdrew.

Silence.

And then--

She felt it.

The slow, careful pull of her jacket being pried open.

So, this is where these boys would go, she thought.

At this point, she was quite certain that each of them had caught glimpses of her--her body revealed in pieces, teasing, never all at once. But now, as her jacket was slowly being pried apart, something new surged within her.

Impatience.

She wanted to show off. More. And she wanted to show off now.

The crisp breeze of the AC met her bare skin, and the sharp sensation of her nipples hardening told her that her breasts were fully exposed. Both of them.

She could practically hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, heavy and insistent, a steady drumbeat of arousal and anticipation. She had agreed to play a part in destiny's game, but now, she prayed that the boys didn't notice how fast she was breathing--how much she wanted this--how much she was enjoying being the centre of their attention.

Then, a sudden squeak from the beanbag.

She didn't move, but she knew.

Rishabh had leaned back, settling into his seat. He had chosen to just sit back and watch.

Ankita risked a delicate peek through her lashes--just in time to catch Ajay mouthing a warning at Rishabh, chastising him for making noise.

But then, her eyes flicked downward.

And she saw them.

Her breasts, fully bare, bathed in the dim glow of the room.

Her creamy, medium-sized curves were on full display, her dusky, coffee-coloured nipples standing taut against the cool air. Ankita had never seen herself like this--so exposed, so deliberately showcased. And for a split second, she wasn't thinking about the boys at all.

She was thinking about herself.

About how undeniably beautiful she looked.

Something about the way her body was presented in the low light--the way her skin seemed to glow, the way her nipples contrasted against the softness of her curves--it made her feel magnificent. Powerful.

She felt proud of her sexuality.

And the dampness pooling between her thighs was a reflection of that pride.

Then, a sudden vibration.

Ajay's phone.

The sound snapped her out of her reverie.

He immediately pulled his hands off her stomach, quickly switching his phone to silent. Rishabh shot him a questioning look, and then--both of them chuckled softly to themselves, a silent exchange only they understood.

Then, just as easily, Ajay replaced his hand on her belly.

But this time, it was different.

He was bolder now.

His palm rested much lower, his thumb barely brushing the waistband of her pants, teasing the skin just above it.

Ankita's breath hitched.

He wasn't moving his hand--wasn't doing anything yet--but his eyes...

His eyes were locked onto her breasts.

So were Rishabh's.

Her eyes were wide open, but it didn't matter. They weren't looking at her face anymore.

Just as she was settling into their gaze, enjoying their enjoyment, she saw Rishabh gesture toward Ajay's phone.

Ajay glanced at the screen, reading whatever message had just arrived. He let out a silent laugh, shaking his head in refusal.

Rishabh had started making suggestions again. Ajay was still rejecting them.

But not forever.

Because the first time Ajay did listen--

She felt it.

A small, barely-there tickle.

His thumb.

Fidgeting against her waistband.

Then--slowly--he slipped his thumb beneath it.

A deeper stroke. A soft rub.

His skin grazing the delicate area just below her navel.

And then, unknowingly--

Ajay's thumb brushed over her freshly shaved pubic area.

Back and forth.

Like a windshield wiper.

Gentle. Exploring. Teasing.

A soft moan escaped her lips.

Ajay froze.

Ankita let her eyelids flutter shut, leaning into the sensation, her body melting into the futon.

Then--deliberately--she let out a slow, heavy sigh.

The kind people make when they're deep in sleep.

The kind that could be mistaken for a dream.

Please assume I'm either dreaming, she thought hazily. Or that I'm a sleep talker.

But don't stop now.

Ajay must have heard her thoughts.

Because the moment that sigh left her lips, he resumed.

His touch was careful at first, like he was still testing boundaries. But when Ankita didn't stir--when she didn't stop him--his strokes grew more deliberate. Slow, rhythmic movements against her lower belly.

Another soft moan slipped from her lips.

Then another.

And another.

They must have heard that, right?

They must know she was awake by now, right?

But he didn't stop.

All the questions, all the uncertainty--being unable to see their expressions, feeling their hands while pretending she wasn't--the push and pull of control--it was all driving her insane.

She was burning.

She was desperate to slip her own hand inside her pants, to grab Ajay's and push it lower--to guide him exactly where she needed him most.

So desperate, in fact, that she didn't notice when Ajay's hand stilled.

And then--he moved.

He slowly folded his legs, shifting beneath her.

Ankita was draped across his lap, her legs resting over his. So, when he moved--she moved.

And that's when it happened.

Her pants--the ones she'd loosened on purpose, the ones already clinging dangerously low on her hips--slipped.

Faster than she could react.

Her eyes flew open in alarm.

Her lower body lagged behind the motion, the loose fabric dragging down--lower, lower--far too low--

And then--

A sharp inhale.

Not from her.

Rishabh.

She barely had time to process the look on his face.

His mouth was slightly open, lips parted, as if already salivating. His pupils were blown wide, his gaze locked onto her body, devouring her.

And then--

Slowly.

Silently.

Rishabh inched closer.

Not wanting to miss a thing.

She looked at Ajay.

His focus was singular, unwavering--watching as her pants inched lower, peeling away with excruciating slowness.

And Ankita--she couldn't see.

Her own body--her own breasts, as beautiful as they were--blocked her view entirely. She had no idea how much was revealed, no way to witness the full extent of her own exposure.

Ajay must have known that.

Because his hands never strayed.

He withdrew them just before the final reveal, as if unwilling to taint the purity of this moment with his touch. As if wanting her nakedness to exist--completely untouched, completely unveiled--for them to simply look.

And then--

Soft fabric met bare skin.

Her breath hitched.

Her ass--completely bare--pressed into the futon.

The only way to see herself was through them.

Ajay.

Rishabh.

Both boys were utterly still.

Their eyes--dark with hunger, breath slow and measured, as if afraid to shatter the moment.

But their gaze--

That twinkle in their eyes told her everything.

They had a full, unobstructed view.

Of her. Of everything.

Ankita barely dared to move, but she needed to know.

How much?

Just how exposed was she?

A subtle shift--

The waistband of her pants sat snugly around her thighs.

Low.

Too low.

A silent declaration: Nothing was left to the imagination.

And there--right there--glinting in the dim light she knew what they could see--the slick evidence of her arousal.

Her act had to have failed.

She knew it.

She was certain the boys could see just how worked up she was. Hell, she could hear the heavy thud of her own heartbeat, feel the deep, shuddering breaths escaping her lips. If they only bothered to listen, they would hear it too.

Ajay's hand returned, this time cupping her heated centre in his palm. His thumb traced slow, teasing strokes along her skin, grazing her slit, drawing lazy circles that sent shivers up her spine. He was spreading her own wetness over her, deliberate and torturous.

Her breath came faster. Every emotion she'd held back, every simmering sensation coiled within her, swelled to the surface, flooding every inch of her body. She wanted them to see more. She wanted them to feel more.

And then, deep within her core, the first wave surged--a shattering pulse that rippled through her, over and over, carrying her past the edge.

As the waves of her release slowly ebbed, awareness crept back in. Ankita became acutely conscious of her surroundings, of the warmth of the bodies beside her, of the sticky heat lingering between her thighs. A jolt of realisation shot through her.

She quickly sat upright, her disheveled hair falling over her face, barely inches from Ajay's. Staying in character, she let out a groggy breath and feigned confusion.

"Sorry! I think I dozed off. Had a bad dream or something."

Ajay's hand was still caught between her lower belly and her bare heat, and she felt the subtle tremor of panic in him. The moment the words left her lips, he hastily withdrew, as if burned, and rested his hand awkwardly on her shoulder instead.

"Yes, I was just about to wake you," he said, his voice carefully steady. "We saw you shivering and shaking and wondered what was wrong. Then you suddenly jolted up and scared the hell out of us. Are you okay?"

His concern seemed genuine--at least in part. She was sure neither of them had ever seen a girl orgasm before, and Ajay was likely wondering whether he'd somehow messed up.

"I'm fine," Ankita murmured, pressing her palm to her chest as if calming herself. "But my throat is parched. Do you have something to drink?"

Rishabh wordlessly handed her a bottle, his fingers trembling so visibly he might as well have been a thief caught red-handed. Ankita took long gulps, the cool water spilling over her chin and trickling down her bare chest, a stark reminder of her nudity.

She wiped a drop from her collarbone and rose to her feet. "Excuse me. I need to use the washroom."

And as soon as she stood up, her pants fell with a heavy thud to the floor. All of them froze. Time froze. Ankita looked down, her breath catching as she stared at the pool of fabric around her feet--too late to realise what had happened.

Her bare folds were right at their eye level, exposed and utterly unhidden, framed perfectly by the soft glow of the room. She could feel the heat of their stares, the thick, suffocating silence pressing in around them. For a single second, nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Then, as if the realisation hit all at once, a startled cry tore from her lips, shattering the trance. She scrambled to cover herself--one hand over her slit, the other behind her, shielding what she could. The shell-shocked boys snapped their gazes up, their wide eyes locked onto hers like deer caught in headlights.

"Turn around!" she commanded, her voice sharp and urgent. They obeyed immediately, whipping their heads away and squeezing their eyes shut. Only then did she hastily yank her pants back up, fumbling with the waistband, her fingers trembling. As she tucked her breasts back into her jacket and zipped up, her face burned with a mix of embarrassment and something far more exhilarating.

Without another word, she darted past them and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Pressing her back against it, she let out a shaky breath, her pulse hammering in her ears. The moment replayed over and over in her mind--the stunned expressions, the raw intensity of being utterly bare before them, the intoxicating thrill of it all.

She took a few deep breaths, steadying herself before turning on the tap. She needed a moment to cool down before she walked back out there.

Ankita had never felt like this before.

A slow-burning heat coiled within her, deeper than anything she had ever known. It wasn't just desire--it was something else, something heavier, something that made her limbs weak and her chest tight. She didn't know what to make of it.

For a fleeting second, she considered staying in the washroom forever.

What will I even say when I go out?

But it wasn't just about words.

What could she do?

Did she even want to say anything?

She had wanted this--hadn't she?

And yet--

I had no clue things could go like this...

She thought she had understood how the night would end. Thought she could surrender to it without consequence. A slow reveal, a steady unraveling, her body slipping into view in bits and pieces--always under the veil of ignorance. As long as the boys didn't know that she knew, it wouldn't matter.

That was what made it thrilling.

That was what made it safe.

But now--

Now, there was no mirage to hide behind.

She wasn't just the girl giving them glimpses of skin between stretches and movements. She wasn't just an abstract, distant fantasy they could steal glances at without certainty.

She was standing here, in this washroom, fully aware of her own nudity, knowing that they were aware of it too.

This was no longer just a game.

It was a reckoning.

And for the first time, she wasn't sure she was ready to face it.

**

"We're so sorry, Ankita. We didn't mean to stare," Ajay blurted the moment she stepped out of the bathroom. His voice was uneven, his throat visibly working to swallow his nerves.

Rishabh was next. "Your pants... they fell right in front of us... and we were already looking at you..." He was fumbling, barely able to hold her gaze. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his whole body radiating unease.

Ankita raised a hand to stop them. "It's okay. It was an accident."

But the words did nothing to ease them. If anything, they looked worse.

Their faces were drained of colour, their bodies stiff with guilt--not just for staring, but for everything else that had happened. They weren't just scared of having seen her. They were scared of what they might have done.

Ajay's hand had been on her while she was supposedly asleep. His palm had pressed against her bare skin, and they both had seen the way she had reacted. The way her body had shivered, the way she had gasped in her sleep, the way her legs had shifted apart.

For all they knew, they had crossed a terrible line.

And now, here they were, standing before her like convicts awaiting a sentence, guilt carved into every inch of their expressions.

Ankita realised something then.

They think they fucked up. They think I'll blame them. They think I'll tell someone.

And that was what truly had them scared out of their minds.

"I think I should leave," she said, her voice smooth, controlled. The stark contrast to their panic made her pulse quicken.

Ajay immediately took a step forward. "I--I'll drop you home."

She turned slightly, her eyes flicking toward him. "I think it's better if I go on my own this time."

Their nervousness only deepened.

She waited a beat, watching them squirm before giving a small, reassuring smile. "Don't worry, you haven't done anything to be sorry about. I'm a hundred percent sure of it."

Ajay blinked rapidly, struggling to process her words. Rishabh barely breathed.

"Whatever happened today, including this morning..." she pointed at Ajay, "... was probably just destiny."

Then, as if the moment needed a final touch, she turned her back to them and bent down to slip on her shoes. As Ankita bent forward to slip on her shoes, her cargo shorts rode down her hips, the loose waistband dipping dangerously low. She felt the cool air brush against her exposed skin, a telltale sign of just how much was on display.

The room was utterly silent.

Well, what kind of a friend am I if I can't do them one last favour?

She slipped on her shoes, turned to leave--

"Ankita! Your bag." Rishabh's voice stopped her.

"Oh! Thanks." She took it, casually slinging it over her shoulder before heading out.

As she waited for the lift, she unzipped the bag to check its contents. A small smirk played on her lips. The clothes she had neatly folded inside--her top, bra, and panties--were now a tangled mess, as if someone had hurriedly shoved them back in.

She turned back to the doorway, a slow, knowing glint in her eyes.

Rishabh and Ajay stood stiff, watching her like deer caught in headlights.

She tilted her head, drawing out the silence. Let them sweat a little.

Then, she finally spoke, voice teasing.

"Didn't take you boys for the nosy type."

Ajay opened his mouth, probably to protest, but before he could, Rishabh blurted out, "Uh... my jacket?"

Ankita almost laughed. He had been stammering apologies a few minutes ago, but now? Now he was asking for his jacket back while she was standing there, still wearing nothing under it.

Bold. Very bold.

Her smile widened.

"Ohhh, right. Your jacket," she drawled, gripping the zipper pull.

She dragged it down, slowly, revealing just the barest hint of skin beneath. Their eyes snapped to the movement, breath caught, shoulders tensed.

Then--just when the fabric was loose enough to fall completely open--

Zzzzip.

She yanked it right back up.

The boys visibly deflated.

With a little mock pity, she patted the collar and sighed dramatically. "You know... I'd love to return it right now, but that would be highly inappropriate of me."

She smirked.

"So I guess you'll just have to wait."

Ajay looked like he had forgotten how to breathe. Rishabh, for all his newfound boldness, was struggling to meet her eyes.

Perfect.

Just as she turned toward the lift, Rishabh made a last, desperate attempt at composure.

"Ankita! Omkar was saying something about a no questions asked--"

That made her pause.

For a guy who had been tripping over apologies earlier, he was certainly coming into his own. And Ajay--silent, wide-eyed Ajay--was just standing there, watching, but not denying anything either.

Ankita let out a delighted giggle.

"Ah, yes! How could I forget?" she teased. "Now you both owe me one each."

The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.

She stepped inside, leaving two ruined boys and a storm of unanswered questions in her wake.

Epilogue

Zoya was sprawled on the couch when the doorbell rang frantically.

She groaned, dragging herself up. If this was someone selling insurance, they were about to regret it.

But as soon as she yanked the door open--

Ankita burst in, flushed, breathless, and grinning like a cat who'd just swallowed a whole flock of canaries.

"I have something to share. Urgently."

Zoya raised an eyebrow.

Oh, this was going to be good.