"Yeah," she admitted. "... that's a tomorrow problem."

"Ease up," she reached over and pinched him in the side.

"Is it really a good idea for you to lower your defenses around me?" she teased, lacing her captive fingers through his.

She laughed at that. “Damn. There goes my mysterious allure.”

Parisa lay her head upon his shoulder, looking into his eyes, her own heady with some odd combination of desire and dolefulness. “I was waiting for you to jump me this morning but it’s really hard to get you to make a move.”

He couldn’t believe her in this moment— so much so that he had to stifle a laugh. Was she being serious? “Did you really just drop us into a porno?” He asked in disbelief.

All of a sudden the amusement turned to nerves as the pull between them magnified. Here they were once again, just the two of them alone for miles, with her knees brushing his and her face leaning dangerously close. “Personally,” he ventured, “I’m a little insulted you’re valuing all this that just a penny.”

“I thought you were already there,” Parisa teased. “You haven’t lost your mind yet?”

“Feofil.” She gingerly pushed herself up off the bed and slid into his lap instead, her skirt sliding against his pants, one hand laid gently upon his chest. “Shut up.”
Then Parisa pulled his head down and pressed her lips against his.

The game settled as he passed through the players like a particularly incensed bull, parting the tide of Kenneth Wellington’s navy blue uniforms with ease until he came upon the one he was looking for. Gabriel had been adjusting something on his big lacrosse stick when he looked up at the silence and his expression immediately grew wary. “What do you—“