"I'm not going to be your secret shame."

The bedside lamps flickers on, flooding the room with a soft light, and Maya freezes in the middle of buttoning up her jeans. She spins around, eyes wide. "What? My secret shame?"

Drew's staring at her from his place in the bed, a lazy smile on his face. Her eyes narrow at his blasé demeanour. He's far too relaxed, stretched out on the mattress, a sheet draped across the lower half of his body, the tops of his hipbones peeking deliciously out from underneath the dark blue fabric.

Maya can feel the blush creeping into her cheeks and her whole body begins to heat up as she thinks about what just transpired underneath that same sheet. Shaking her head, as if to clear her mind of the slightly dirty thoughts, she stares at him accusingly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We broke up a year ago, Maya." He wriggles back slightly, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. "And for some reason you keep showing up in my bed. In the middle of the night. Cloaked in darkness." He gives her a pointed look. "So nobody knows you're here."

She doesn't respond, merely bends down to pick her shirt up off its place on his bedroom floor, and starts the search for her shoes.

"We fight. We fuck." He ends the word with a distinct emphasise on 'ck' and it causes her to snap upright. He smirks at her standing in front of him, clearly refusing to turn around. "And then you sneak out before I wake up."

Suddenly feeling very exposed in just her jeans and yellow bra, Maya quickly pulls her blue tank top on, in some sort of hope that it will cover her up. She finds herself wishing she had more clothing: a t-shirt, a sweater, one of those ridiculously oversized coats that make the wearer look like they're wrapped in marshmallows. Just something to cover up her entire body so that she couldn't feel the burn of his eyes on her bare skin. "I don't sneak."

Drew lets out a soft chuckle. "Right. Because tiptoeing around my bedroom collecting your clothes and disappearing at 3am without waking me up, isn't sneaking." There's an underlying bite to his tone, and he hopes she doesn't pick up on it. "I thought you were an English major, Maya. Maybe get a hold of a dictionary or something."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but unless you have a thing for making snide speeches in your sleep, you are in fact awake." She's facing him now, arms crossed. She notices that he's shifted his position and is now sitting, his back against the headboard.

He raises his eyebrows, smirk still in place. "I pretended to be asleep so I could catch you in the act. Tease you a little, make you squirm." His eyes sparkle with amusement.

There's an involuntary, and very unwelcome, stirring low in her belly, and Maya's entire body tenses. "I thought this was supposed to be every guy's fantasy." She spots one of her shoes underneath his desk. "A one-night stand without any consequences. No awkward morning-after talk, which, by the way, this is."

"Sure." He shrugs before crossing his arms. "But I think once you hit the twenty-second one-night stand, you're in borderline relationship territory." His smile is gone and she's surprised to find herself feeling anxious. "And when you're in a relationship there's no real need to sneak."

"A what?" It comes out as a squeak.

His smile is back and Maya finds it far more disconcerting. "Relationship, babe." Then he frowns, but his amusement is clear in his eyes. "I was only kidding about the dictionary before, but now I'm genuinely worried about your grasp of the English language."

Her eye roll is monumental. "This wonderful conversation?" Maya motions between them with her hands. "Is why I leave before you wake up." She moves around the room with the determination to find her other shoe. "You've always been such a charmer." She stops moving when she spots it on the floor next to his side of the bed, nestled into his jeans. Her nose wrinkles.

"What?" Drew frowns in confusion, and rolls onto his left hip, following her line of sight. "Oh." When he spots her shoe, he reaches down with his right hand and plucks it from its place amongst his clothes.

She can't help but stare at him as he does so, his back and shoulder muscles tightening as he leans down. Her skin is suddenly on fire again and she swallows hard. Her eyes travel up the curve of his shoulder blade, up the slope of his neck. When she sees the corner of his lips quirk up, her eyes flit up to meet his before darting away in embarrassment.

"C'mon Maya." He leans back into the headboard and waves her right shoe at her. "I won't bite." He drops the shoe into his lap before pointing up to his right shoulder. "Although, apparently you do."

She glances at his shoulder and flushes in embarrassment at seeing the purplish-green bruise forming around a series of red crescents, the clear imprint of her front teeth. "Oh my god." It's instinct, the way she moves to his side and softly brushes her fingertips across his skin. "Does it hurt?" She turns to look at him, and upon seeing his jaw tense, realises what she's doing.

Showing weakness.

"Uh…" He falters for a second, before regaining his composure. "Nah, its fine. I plan on wearing it as a badge of honour. Can't wait to see what the guys say about it." A grin breaks out on his face. "Besides, it matches the scratches on my back."

Eyes narrowing, Maya brings her hand up to the bruise and presses her index finger into the skin. Hard. She smiles when he lets out a small hiss, and uses the opportunity to swipe her shoe from his lap before moving across the bedroom towards the door. "Getting naked in front of the guys, huh?" She grabs onto the door handle and lifts her right foot up behind her, before sliding on her shoe. "Latent homosexual feelings, perhaps?"

He snorts. "Want me to rewind the last few hours, cupcake?" He leans forward, an arrogant smirk plastered on his smug face. "It's a prime example of how incredibly not true that is. So is last Tuesday. Or Sunday. Or the Thursday two weeks ago. Or the Monday before that, the Monday before that." He's counting them off on his fingers, smirk growing with each one. "Or the Fr –"

"Okay!" She holds her hands up to silence him. "I get the picture." Ignoring his arrogance, she reaches for her purse, checking its contents for her phone and keys. There was no way she was going to leave anything behind. "Absolutely no need to spell it out. To anyone. Ever." She moves back to the door, reaching for the handle.

"So, same time tomorrow?" It's glib, and pointed, and it makes her want to strangle him.

Maya whirls around to face him. "This is never happening again, Drew." A sigh escapes her lips. "You were right. We're past the casual one-night stand limit. And this can't mean anything more than that."

He leans further forward, squinting at her. "You know, if I look really close, I can almost see those walls slamming up around you."

"You should recognise them. You were the one who put them there." The words are out of her mouth before she has a chance to sensor them, and her eyes widen in horror.

"Wait." He's looking at her suspiciously. "Was that actual emotion? From Maya Harman?"

Letting out a small sigh of relief, she shrugs, surprisingly nonchalant. "It happens. On occasion." There's a strange sense of pride that fills her when she notices a matching look of surprise on his face. He was clearly expecting a different response.

Before he has a chance to say anything, she's out the bedroom door. Even in complete darkness she's able to manoeuvre around the apartment without crashing into anything. She's almost at the door before the lights go on.

With a loud sigh of exasperation, she stops. "Next time I'm going to have to make sure you're really asleep to avoid all this shit."

"Next time?" He's staring at her back from his place in the doorway, annoyed at the small tinge of hope in his voice. Her body tenses at his words, and it makes him smile. "This is never happening again, Drew." He mimics her earlier words, the mocking tone biting through.

Her shoulders drop, and she turns around to face him, ready to fight back. When she sees him leaning against the bedroom door frame, a pair of crumpled jeans hanging low on his hips, his torso bare, she suddenly loses her entire train of thought.

Feeling emboldened, she takes a few moments to ogle him, her eyes wandering over his body. By the time her eyes meet his, her entire body is tingling. They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, not one word between them.

She hasn't left yet, and for the life of her she doesn't know why. The cogs in her mind are turning, she can practically hear them inside her head. His eyes darken, and when she feels her traitorous body starting to heat up, she realises that she's not going anywhere.

She tips her head back to look at the ceiling for answers, a loud sigh escaping her lips. Her purse drops to the floor beside her. "Fuck it." Her body is moving towards him before she even knows what she's doing.

It's almost too graceful, how when she leaps at him, her legs coming up to wrap tightly around his body, her hands grasping either side of his face pulling his lips to hers, his arms come around her, hands low on her hips, lifting her up. It's like the entire moment is choreographed, and has been practiced for an insanely large amount of hours.

But she doesn't want to analyse it, doesn't want to think about how her body fits perfectly against his, how they both respond to each other so instinctively.

She doesn't even realise that they're back in the bedroom until he sits down on the edge of the bed, his thighs suddenly coming up underneath her for support. His lips move to her neck, and she tilts her head to the side, allowing him better access.

"Not really a woman of your word, are you, cupcake?" It's murmured against her skin, shooting tingles of pleasure down her arm. "Never say never." He nips at her neck, and she can't stop the moan from escaping her, her hands curl around his sides, just above his kidneys, her fingertips pressing into the soft flesh. "Let's see if we can't get my shoulders to match."

Her eyes open, flicking across the bruise her mouth had left a few hours earlier, and she lets out a huff of indignation. Her hands leave his sides, and come back up to his face. "Shut. Up." Her palms flat against his cheeks, she can feel the tickle of his stubble. Her fingers curl into the divots just behind his jaw bone and she pulls his mouth to hers.

She can feel his smile against her lips.