Theo and I woke up with hangovers from hell, and it took us several hours—and the last of our weed—to quell our symptoms enough to migrate downstairs. Now, the two of us sat across from each other at the hotel diner, skimming the breakfast menu for something that wouldn't expel the contents of our stomachs.

Jay, on the other hand, was as chipper as ever, shamelessly flirting with the waitress and over-tipping every staff member we encountered. I didn't ask about his prurient hotel guest, determined to avoid any unsolicited details, but he looked pretty damn happy for a terminal cancer patient. And honestly, I'd experience this wretched hangover all over again if it meant gifting him the same feeling.

Upon finishing his second cup of coffee, my uncle retired to the hotel room 'to rest,' which was really just Rivas code for 'take a massive shit.' Unfortunately, that left me all alone with Theo, each of us still struggling to work up an appetite—each of us trapped at a booth with nowhere to go and everything to discuss.

The waitress delivered my over hard eggs a few minutes later, and even though I recognized the benefits of consuming cysteine right now, one glance at the plate made me queasy. Meanwhile, Theo didn't even bother with his oatmeal. He just hid his face in his hands, shielding his eyes from the lights overhead and the miserable headache they exacerbated.

I frowned at him, unsure how to break the silence. His confession sat in the back of my brain like old gum I didn't know how to dispose of, and it was all I could think about.

I'm pretty fucking sure I'm falling in love with you, he'd said. But was that actually what he'd intended to blurt out? Or had he meant to say that he loved fucking me?

Was he simply emotionally dyslexic?

We hadn't spoken about it yet, and I was too scared to broach the topic, too afraid he'd confirm his drunken statement. And if that was the case, then what the hell was I supposed to do? End our sexual relationship right here and now? Draw a boundary so true friendship could flourish, as we'd originally proposed? Was there even an alternative?

My gaze settled on his exhausted face and bedhead.

Was I really willing to end this because he'd set our contract aflame? Was he?

"Usually weed helps with the nausea, but it's not doing jack shit for me this morning," he grumbled. He dropped his hands and leaned back against the booth. "How are you faring?"

"I feel like I swallowed insecticide....and like my brain is trying to escape my skull...Shawshank style."

He nodded, sympathizing with my pain. "Did I order another drink at the pool or something? I thought I knew my limits, but I must have lost track. Everything about last night is spotty."

I scanned his face, searching for a flicker of deceit or embarrassment, but there was no indication of dishonesty. "I don't think so. My memories are a little patchy too, though."

Well, that was only half true. Our journey from the Strip to the pool had a few missing pages, but I'd sobered up real quick after Theo dropped his bombshell.

He smiled at me and my nest of tangled, chlorine-treated hair. "I mean, I remember the nipple play. And it would be hard to forget making you cum in a public swimming pool."

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. He said that as if it wasn't the most lascivious thing he could utter aloud.

"But...everything non-boob related is kind of fuzzy," he admitted.

I huffed. "You men really are simple creatures, aren't you?"

"Don't blame me for your powers of seduction."

"I was minding my own business. You chose to be seduced when you started fondling me."

His lips parted in mock outrage. "Yeah right! That bikini was basically masking tape and floss! You knew what you were doing to me, you temptress."

I hid my guilty smile behind the rim of my coffee cup.

Theo didn't seem to pick up on my apprehension, which meant he'd either forgotten what he said, or he assumed I didn't remember. Either way, it offered me a blank slate—and the perfect chance to start anew.

But deep down, I knew even a time machine wouldn't erase Carl's memory, and he'd never let me forget my first love confession.

I drove for the first three hours, then handed the keys to Theo and took a shot at sleeping my hangover away. Surprisingly, the long drive offered a couple stints of deep sleep and several hangxiety-ridden dreams, but I was otherwise restive and horribly nauseous. After a while, I simply closed my eyes and listened to the gentle vibration of Jay's voice.

"...It stung, watching her leave," he said. "Definitely thought we'd grow old together."

"Fuck," Theo whispered from the driver's seat. "I'm sorry she did that to you, Jay."

"Tt. I don't even blame her at this point. Putting up with this shit every day isn't easy."

It was quiet for a moment, and then Theo asked, "Do you regret it? Marrying her?"

I opened my eyes to a wall of upholstery leather, shocked by his nerve. Jay and I had covered a lot of ground together, but there were some things he refused to exhume in my presence. When it came to my Aunt Maya, Jay always shot the conversation dead.

I'd learned to tread carefully since the divorce.

"Regret?" Jay thought it over for a second, then heaved a sigh. "No. I don't think most people regret the love they experienced, even when it goes south. They might regret staying as long as they did, or maybe how things ended. But the death of a relationship doesn't erase all the good that came out of it. All the things we learned about ourselves. All the growth. Which is probably why we keep searching for it, even after we've been burned." He chuckled quietly. "Burn victims, all of us."

"Did you try dating again after she cheated?"

"Nah. I wasn't interested in romance after that. And I didn't need that kind of love in my life, not when I had Mona looking after me." I heard the grin on his lips. "I might be dying, but that kid has saved my life time and time again. Part of me wishes I could stick around just for her. She makes life less shitty, even when it's miserable."

His words wrung my heart out, and I tilted my forehead into the seat, blinking away tears.

"I can see that," Theo acknowledged. "She makes every situation better. Even when she's roasting you."

Jay's laugh dissolved into a coughing fit, and I heard him guzzle down some water before replying, "Especially then."

No one spoke for a few miles, and I frowned, wondering if I should yawn and announce my state of consciousness or if I could get away with eavesdropping a while longer.

"You know, when my mom reached her final lap, she chose at-home hospice care," Theo shared, and I peeked at the bright oranges streaming in through the backseat window, announcing the sun's departure. "And I know you're on the fence about the whole idea, but it was nice, having her around, keeping her out of the hospital. The care she received then was the best she experienced. Go figure."

Jay grunted, out of annoyance or sympathy, I wasn't sure. He'd shut down when I brought up hospice at the hot spring, but somehow, Theo was able to get through to him. At least, long enough to make a point.

"But...it also permitted her closest friends and family to visit for a few days without the hassle of checking into the hospital. She got to see them on her own terms, in her own house, without all those fucking machines. And having a few dedicated employees around gave my dad, sister, and me a little break from caregiving, which we all needed in order to be there for her emotionally. So...if you don't want to do it for yourself, consider doing it for them."

Contemplative silence filled the car, and I smiled at Theo's brilliant strategy.

Jay had always loathed the idea of accepting help, even from me. He wouldn't choose hospice for his own benefit; the Guatemalan was too prideful to accept end-stage care from strangers, and he hated the idea of abandoning his independence. But if he could see it as a gift to his loved ones, a way to make their lives easier, then he might just be willing to compromise.

"Makes sense," Jay muttered. "Maybe I'll look into it...just to shut everyone up."

I didn't even have to glance at Theo to know he was smiling.  "Couldn't hurt."

We made it to Jay's apartment just before midnight, and he hugged us both and thanked us for the good company. Then he walked away like cancer had never plagued him—his steps light, his posture tall, and his pockets heavy with gambling earnings.

After that, Theo swung by Grounds to pick up some decaf coffees before driving us to a popular vista point on the west-side of town. We were the only visitors this late at night, so we were able to park at the far edge of the lookout. And for the next fifteen minutes, we simply sat in the dark and listened to Theo's playlist, sipping on our coffees and mourning our eventful vacation.

Below us, the small city flickered and gleamed in the center of the valley—a splash of pink, yellow, green, and red in a sea of darkness. It might not have been as dazzling as Las Vegas, but it was home. And for the first time in over a decade, that felt like an appropriate descriptor.

"Thank you, Theo," I whispered, thinking of my uncle's retreating figure and the bright grin splitting his lips. "This trip meant a lot to me."

My copilot squeezed my knee. "Gotta love 'em while they're here, right?"

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, fighting the tears that sprung to the surface. "Right."

His grip slackened when he noticed the water welling in my eyes. "I just...I meant—"

"I know," I assured him, setting my empty coffee cup aside. "I'm glad we could give him this. It was a perfect trip." My jaw ached from repressing the waterworks. "I'm okay. Really."

He reached for my hand. "Alright. But you don't have to be, you know? I'm here for you regardless."

Apparently, that was all it took to bring my fortress to the desert floor, and I immediately burst into tears. His arms enveloped me, drawing me to his chest, and I fell into him with a shudder, holding him across the console. Staining his shirt with grief.

God, how long had I held this one in? Months? Years? Too long, if my racking sobs were anything to go by.

Theo stroked my hair as I cried, and I clutched at his shoulders, never wanting to detach from him. I felt like I might disintegrate without his arms holding me together, without his body keeping me upright, and I never wanted to test that theory.

Eventually, though, my sobs tapered off, and the hot tears cooled upon my cheeks.

Theo softly kissed my temple, then my damp eyelids and the tip of my nose. "I'm here whenever you need me, and I'm not going anywhere."

I pressed my forehead to his. "Promise?"

He swept the dark hair out of my face and cupped my cheek, the city lights glistening in his pupils like crescent moons. "Promise."

I sealed the vow with a kiss, chasing the need to be closer, the need to be overwhelmed by him, the need to be immersed in his ferocious heat and earthy aroma. He welcomed me with an open mouth, eager to comfort me with physical affection after days of celibacy, and I hummed against him, encouraging him to show me just how much he missed me.

I pushed into him, delving inside his mouth, and he moved his seat back, making space for me as I crawled on top of him. With a grace that impressed my inner critic, I straddled him in the driver's seat with my back to the steering wheel and my knees hugging his sides.

His hands found my thighs, bunching my sundress up around my hips. "Fuck, I've wanted to touch you like this all week..." he said between kisses, his fingers toying with the lacy waistband of my underwear. 

My lips moved to his neck, and he arched his back at the nerves I'd awakened. "So touch me," I whispered, ending my trail of kisses with a wet, beseeching bite.

He bucked his hips against me, and his hands slid to my ass. "The condoms are in my b—"

"It's okay."

He paused to look at me with hooded eyes—uncertain, unsure, yet grounded enough to foresee the risks.

"I'm on the pill," I clarified, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the passenger seat. "Got on it as soon as we booked the trip."

The prospect of fucking me raw made him dive back in with renewed vigor. He kissed me hard, his hands exploring my thighs, my curves, my feminine frame. As his palms worked my flesh like clay on a potter's wheel, I removed his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. Then, delicately, I unzipped his pants and pulled them down far enough to expose the tent in his boxers.

When I settled over him again, I could feel him stiff and erect beneath me, and we both sighed at the thin barriers between us: nothing but cotton fabric denying us access. And I wanted it gone. I wanted him in me, on me, and everywhere else.

I ground into our nexus, my knees digging into his seat, my hands sliding over his tattoo and the toned surface of his chest. I expected him to ravage me over the steering wheel or bend me over the console, but our pace had already shifted to something less frenzied.

More...deliberate.

Suddenly, every touch was slow and thorough, like he wanted to savor every second we shared. Like he wanted to memorize every mole, scar, stretch mark, and hair follicle here under the faint light of the city. And as much as I wanted him to fuck me so hard that he shattered every sad and confusing thought in my head, something about his engrossed, perfervid approach made me feel like an entirely new person.

It made me feel soothed, yet feverish.

And incredibly wet.

He kissed every sliver of flushed skin he exposed, his tongue sending pleasant sparks up and down my body, his dick twitching between my legs. Sex talk didn't find its way into conversation this time; we only spoke in sighs and moans and breathy curses. But tonight, we were completely immersed in each other and fully attentive to all body language, verbal cues, and suggestive looks. It felt like an improvised dance between lovers—and a mental link that couldn't be severed.

I pulsed and throbbed around the fingers he'd inserted, moaning at the way his other hand stroked the most sensitive part of my body. My legs shook on either side of him, begging for reprieve, and he finally released me so I could pull him from his boxers, move my underwear aside, and absorb his length.

"Fuck."

I wasn't even sure who said it, but the pressure and friction he delivered were all that I needed. All that I craved. He stretched me to the point that it was almost painful, exquisitely so, and he filled me to my brim—every inch of me that ached for him.

All skin, all Theo.

I rode him in the front seat, relishing his texture, his fullness, and for a while, he simply watched me rock against him, my breasts slipping free from my dress and bouncing with every thrust. My curls brushing my collarbone every time I sank back down on his cock.

Hunger swam in his eyes, and I leaned forward to kiss him again, but he grabbed my hips and held me still, our chests heaving in tandem. "Backseat."

I blushed at the command. "How do you want me?"

"Against the window."

Lust coated his voice, and I slithered into the backseat as I was told, shedding my dress on the way. With my heart hammering against my chest, I placed my palms against the windowpane, bracing myself for his return. A beat passed, and then he crawled behind me and pressed his naked chest to my back, extending his left leg to the floor for a stronger, more powerful thrust.

I trembled with anticipation.

Please....please...I want you again, I thought, writhing to convey my need for him, sliding my ass over his tip to prompt his destruction. Turn me animalistic. Make me carnal.

A pleased groan tore from his throat, and he kissed his way up my spine as he yanked my thong down my legs and out of the way. He grasped my hips again, and after a deep, yearning exhale, he pushed inside me.

The position bent my spine like a horseshoe, and I dropped my head between my arms as his pelvis slammed into my ass over and over again, mining for my cervix. He slapped his hand against the window, his palm beside mine, and he sucked on my earlobe as he fucked me from behind.

So practiced. So good.

We fogged up the windows in minutes, and I could barely hear his music playing over our combined panting and moaning. I was already losing strength in my legs, my slick thighs quivering with enervation, and a few seconds later, Theo flattened me to the seat, his full weight against me.

"God, you're a fucking fantasy," he groaned. "You know that?"

I was too hot, too undone to think of a cohesive sentence, so I whimpered.

The next thing I knew, I was on my side, my lover sandwiched between my body and the backseat, spooning me on leather cushions. He lifted my outer leg, gripping the back of my knee to hold me open, and I gasped as he sank inside me once again—this time at the perfect, most delectable angle.

To prevent him from fucking me off the cushions, I brought my right hand to the door handle and my left to the back of the passenger seat, fighting to keep my body level and balanced and firm. The hand holding my leg dropped to massage my clit, and I pushed my toes against the ceiling of his car, moaning as he built me up to those hot, glorious spasms I longed for.

I craned my neck to kiss him, fisting the dark locks at the back of his head, desperate for more of him—impossibly. His hand flew to my breast, squeezing me, then to the side of my neck.

"Theo..."

His fingers traced my jawline like he'd never seen something so ethereal. "Moe..."

We locked eyes, and he held my gaze as he slid his thumb over my bottom lip, then pushed the digit into my parted mouth. I shuddered at the taste of him on my tongue, and his brow creased at the erotic image, as if he were overwhelmed with stimulation and affection and...

And love.

After that, I knew nothing but his touch, his mouth, and the steady rhythm of deep penetration. Eyes closed. Nerves aflame. Muscles contracted.

I clenched around him as I came, moaning into the darkness, and he pulled out a second after, drenching my inner thigh in the product of his arousal. Cursing all the while.

After he cleaned me up with his discarded shirt, we lay tangled in each other for a few minutes, boneless and panting in the backseat of his Jaguar.

We stared at each other with wide eyes, both aware that this experience was different from the others. Both aware that this night had been, in many ways, superior.

A question lurked beneath the surface, begging to be asked, but I couldn't do it. I didn't want anything to change. I wanted us to stay like this, Moe and Theo, forever. Uncomplicated. Unburdened. Untouched by the whip of romance.

And it was almost like Theo could see the distress in my eyes, the urge to communicate my resistance, because in that moment, he lifted his chin and kissed my forehead—posing his own dangerous question.

Normally, I would have flicked him in the face for the violation and rolled away with an insult on my tongue.

But tonight, my answer was a slow, consenting smile.