Things were in the air with Zach- I wasn't entirely sure where we stood, or if we did at all, for that fact.

The last time we'd really seen each other was simple- we gave each other head. That was it.

And ever since then, well, radio silence.

I stared at him from across the field, my jaw taut. I was mad at him, I was confused at him, I was feeling a lot of things towards him.

But I still wanted him.

"That your lover boy over there?" Jesse asked, smirking as he tossed the football to Eros.

"Shut the fuck up," I said, keeping my eyes locked on Zach.

"Bro, it was a simple question. You know, I'm all for it. You being into dudes. It's just new."

"Jesse, shut up," Eros muttered, forcefully throwing the football at him.

"Hey, how's our girl?" Jesse teased. Jesse'd had a crush on Josie for as long as everyone could remember, but Josie hadn't ever given anyone but Eros a chance.

"Still mine, only mine, always gonna be only mine. You know how it is."

I tuned out the conversation, keeping my eyes locked on Zach as I braced my palms on my knees.

Should I go talk to him? Probably not. You'll be a stuttering mess. Like you usually are.

I put my pride aside and walked to the other side of the field. Zach really had no reason to be here beyond waiting on me to finish up.

"Hey!" I yelled, nodding towards him.

He looked over at me, smiling. "Hey."

"Where the hell have you been?" I asked, shrugging.

He leaned his head back against the railing of the bleachers, trailing his eyes down me.

"I mean, we give each other head, we talk about it once, and then we don't even talk at all after that. The fuck is that, Zach?"

He knitted his eyebrows together, a grin tugging at his lips.

"Alright, fuck this-"

"Henry, wait," he firmly said.

"I'm tired of this shit," I said, "being the only fucking one that's man enough to say shit."

"Man enough? You can barely get a fucking sentence out, Henry," he deadpanned.

"Oh, and you're such a man?" I asked, shrugging, "hey, newsflash, taking a dick down your throat doesn't just give you this honorary title of a man."

He folded his arms over his chest, smiling.

"What is funny?" I asked.

"You get all red when you get angry," he said, nodding, "I like that."

"What do you want from me, Zach?"

"I do have a bigger goal, that's far beyond what I'm about to imply, but in this particular moment, I just want one thing."

"That's how it seems all the time," I snapped.

"You don't give me the chance to move towards anything else," he said.

"Don't pin this shit on me," I said, watching as he stood up and walked down the few rows of bleachers separating us.

"Maybe you need to be inside someone," he said, "that might improve your shitty mood."

"Did you just tell me to go fuck a girl?" I chuckled out, "i-is that wh-"

"Who said I meant you should be inside someone other than me?"

I froze, my jaw taut as our eyes met each other's.

He smiled, leaning his head back as he trailed his eyes down me, and back up to my lips. "Let me know, yeah?"

He patted my chest before walking away, leaving me completely confused.

~*~

"Fuck!" I squealed, digging my nails into Milo's skin.

"Be-be easy," he breathlessly muttered, "shit, you're gonna claw my back open."

My head fell back against the pillow beneath my head, my lips parting as I gently trailed my hands down his, apparently, extremely sensitive back.

Not that I remembered exactly what Milo had felt like seventeen years ago, and not that I'd expected him to be exactly the same as he was, he'd changed a lot, from what I could remember.

He seemed like he knew what he was doing now. While I was always convinced that he was experienced and a sex god, that was certainly not the case- he'd probably never actually made a woman orgasm until age thirty-five.

Or even cared enough to make sure the woman orgasmed.

"M-Milo," I moaned, biting down on my lip.

"Fuck, you feel good," he whispered, hooking my left leg around his hips as he thrusted into me.

I grabbed his face and pulled his lips to mine. If I looked at him too much, I thought too much, and I was convinced I was an awful person for having sex with Milo Parker. Specifically right now with my current state of affairs.

"You like that?" He asked, pulling away from me for a second.

I nodded, watching as his head fell into my chest. He slowed his strokes down, using his hands to cover my chest, clothed in a red bra.

"Take it off," I breathlessly whispered, looking up at him.

He leaned down, making sure to keep his eyes locked on mine as he pulled one of the cups down with his teeth. I bit down on my lip and trailed my hands up my sides, gripping my hair as I closed my eyes.

He really has gotten better at this.

To be honest, my sex life had basically diminished after Lily came into the picture. Everyone told me it would- I just didn't expect it actually doing so.

Luke's sure didn't, though.

The anger and resentment towards Luke made me want rougher, angrier sex. I wrapped my hand around Milo's neck, looking up at him.

"The fuck do you think you are?" He asked, wrapping his hand around my throat.

I parted my lips, letting go of him. I looked down at his hips meeting mine, and his free hand rubbing my bundle of nerves. I didn't even know he knew that existed.

"M-Milo," I whimpered, keeping my eyes locked on his as his thrusts became more fast-paced and rough.

"He never fucked you like this, did he?" He sneered.

That seemed to be my trigger- I felt an orgasm take over my entire body before I could even blink. I arched my back and covered my chest with my hands, letting out moan after moan as I rode out the impressively intense orgasm.

He fell against me and I bit down on my lip. As much as I'd enjoyed it in the moment, it certainly wasn't worth this feeling.

I gently pushed him off of me, rolling over on my side and sitting upright. I grabbed my bra and shorts from the ground, slipping into them. I searched around for my sweater, raking my hands through my hair.

"Did you lay off the coke?" I curiously asked, out of nowhere.

He sat upright in bed, folding his arms over his chest. "Uh, yeah. Stopped doing that when I was 21."

"Seems to be working for you," I said, slipping into my sweater.

He held a confused look on his face as I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder.

"That's it?" He chuckled.

I looked back at him, unable to stare at him for too long, because he had aged gracefully. He was a good-looking man.

"Yeah," I said, "felt good. Thanks."

"Listen, if this is you trying to get back at me, that shit happened seventeen years ago," he said, "you need to grow the hell up."

"It's not that, Milo, it's that I'm still legally married," I deadpanned.

"Well, I'm not the one who suggested this, so don't pin it on me," he said.

"I'm not trying to," I said, "I-I'm sorry. I've gotta go."

I opened the door of his hotel room, disappointed in myself, and completely confused.

~*~

Today was the first out of sync day Fred and I had experienced since rekindling things.

It was like every bad habit either of us had, they were all amplified today. For example, Fred couldn't put his dirty laundry in the hamper to save his life. They always ended up scattered around the hamper, but never in it.

"Fred, the trash can is right here," I said, bending down to pick up a q-tip he'd, again, missed throwing in the correct place.

"What?" He asked from inside the shower.

"It's like you can't see," I said, "your q-tips were all around the trash can, but none of them were in there. It's like a talent, missing the can every time."

He stepped out of the shower, wrapping his towel around his hips. "Uh, okay? It was like, three."

"So you saw them and just didn't bother to pick them up?"

He looked over at me, knitting his eyebrows together.

"I'm curious," I said, "do you do the same thing with your laundry?"

"What is wrong with you?" He asked, leaning into the mirror to check out his stubble.

"It's frustrating," I said, "I thought I was done picking up after kids."

He chuckled, his jaw taut as he leaned back. "Okay."

"Please start picking up your q-tips," I said, "if you see them scattered about, just lean over and throw them away. It is not that difficult."

I walked out of the bathroom and raked my bands through my hair, my eyes wide.

"Okay, what did I do to you?" He asked.

"Nothing, Fred."

"Don't do this," he said, shaking his head.

I sat on the edge of the bed, bracing my palms on the mattress behind me. "Don't do what?"

"Act like that," he said, "that's how you acted before you left."

I tilted my head over.

"And you might not agree with me, but that's all it took. One bad day. For you to leave."

"Fred, I'm not just going to up and l-"

"You did it once, who's to say you won't do it again?"

"Fred," I firmly said.

There it was- there was the bitterness we'd talked about. The look in his eyes could've frozen hell over.

He braced his palms on the dresser, looking at himself. He let out a heavy sigh, raking his hands through his hair as he walked into the closet.

I sat on the bed, chewing on my bottom lip as I watched him drop his towel and step into a pair of underwear.

"Maybe we need to try something," I suggested.

He looked over at me, the same cold look still in his eyes.

"Fred, you're obviously not over things-"

"That's understandable-"

"I never said it wasn't, Fred," I firmly said, "okay, I get it. But we obviously aren't fixing it on our own."

He gripped his hips, standing in the middle of our bedroom with his eyes locked on mine. "So what are you suggesting?"

"I don't know, therapy, or something," I said, "w-we should've done that anyways."

He didn't respond quickly, instead he took his time thinking it through.

"You're still so angry at me, Fred," I said, my voice breaking, "I can't stand it. I know you try to act like you're not, but I know you are. I see it. Every time I look at you."

"You know what, if it's going to save it, okay," he said, "I'm not losing you again. It almost fucking killed me."

I looked over at him as he climbed in bed, sighing. I'd really broken Fred's heart, as much as it sucked to admit it.

"I'm sorry," I softly said.

His back was turned to me, so I couldn't see his facial expressions, which always said more than his mouth did.

"I'll start looking tomorrow," he said.

I bit down on my lip, turning off my lamp. "Okay then."

"And I'll pick up my q-tips," he softly said, making me turn my head towards him. All the lights were off, so I couldn't see anything- but I could feel the look on his face. The genuine one, instead of the coldness.

I realized Fred was a man with no pride when it came to us. He was willing to do anything to save us and keep me around.

I just wish you would've realized that sooner.

~*~

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