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She wasn't sure whose idea it was. Maybe chance, or maybe he lied when he said he hadn't heard the shower running, because if that was true then why didn't he blush and slam the door shut?
It was just her mood. There were question marks wherever she turned: the worlds and the people she kept running into, the universe - nothing stayed the same for long.
Her skin pebbled before she finished wrapping the towel around her. When Jet came in, he seemed like the warmest thing in the room - that was all. She was surprised at how earnestly he kissed her back.
Half a cigarette dangled forgotten between his fingers. Careless. She stole it and took a pull, then threw it and kissed him again, letting him share.
When she settled her thighs around him, his left hand - the metal one - wound up on her back, and she jumped, almost shrieking.
"Quiet - what if -"
Faye giggled at his panic and took his icy hand, moved it to where the towel rested on her hip. "Yeah, what if they do? Would you care?"
She pushed herself down on him again to keep him from saying anything she didn't want to hear. Despite the unheated floor beneath his back, he shut up and tightened his grip on her, and she moved against him, slow and deliberate.
Afterwards, as she stepped back in the shower, Jet said, "Listen, if you..." Then he remembered himself and lowered his voice. "If you want to continue this, we can go to my room. It's freezing in here" - she'd wondered if he noticed - "and, well, I think it's the wrong place."
"Another time," she said, turning on the hot water. He lingered for a moment; then she heard the door close. He'd been serious, but he probably didn't realize that she was.