“Why do you always look like you just rolled out of bed?''Because usually I have.' And the way he raised his eye-brow at me made me blush.'Classy,' I said.”

“You like me,” he finally said. “You like me, like me.” He was trying not to smile.“No. I hate you,” I said, hoping that saying it would make it so.“And yet, you draw me.” Noah was still smug, completely undeterred by my declaration.This was torture; worse somehow than what just happened, even though it was only the two of us. Or because it was only the two of us.“Why?” he asked.“Why what?” What could I say? Noah, despite you being an asshole, or maybe because of it, I’d like to rip off your clothes and have your babies. Don’t tell.”

“I squinted one of my eyes at Daniel.“What are you doing?” he asked.“This is me, giving you the side eye.” I continued to squint.“Well, you look like you’re having a stroke”

“What are my options?""You could read obscure poetry while I play the triangle, I suppose. Or we can smother ourselves in peanut butter and howl at the moon. Use your imagination.""Fine,"I said. "You take my hand and back up toward the bed.""Excellent choice. What then?""You sit down, and pull me down with you.""Where are you?" he asked."You pull me onto your lap.""Where are your legs?""Around your waist.""Well," Noah said, his voice slightly rough. "This is getting interesting. So I'm on the edge of your bed. I'm holding you on my lap as you straddle me. My arms are around you, bracing you there so you don't fall. What am I wearing?"..."What do you usually wear to bed?" I asked.Noah said nothing. I opened my eyes to an arched brow and a devious grin.Oh my God."Close. Your. Eyes," he said. I did. "Now, where were we?""I was straddling you," I said."Right. And I'm wearing...""Drawstring pants.""Those are quite thin, you know."I'm aware...."Right," he said. "So what are you wearing?""I don't know. A space suit. Who cares?""I think this should be as vivid as possible," he said. "For you," he clarified, and I chuckled. "Eyes closed," he reminded me. "I'm going to have to institute a punishment for each time I have to tell you.""What did you have in mind?""Don't tempt me. Now, what are you wearing?""A hoodie and drawstring pants too, I guess.""Anything underneath?""I don't typically walk around without underwear.""Typically?""Only on special occasions.""Christ. I meant under your hoodie.""A tank top, I guess.""What color?""White tank. Black hoodie. Gray pants. I'm ready to move on now."I felt him nearer, his words close to my ear. "To the part where I lean back and pull you down with me?"Yes."Over me," he said.Fuck."The part where I tell you that I want to feel the softness of the curls at the nape of your neck? To know what your hipbone would feel like against my mouth?" he murmured against my skin. "To memorize the slope of your navel and the arch of your neck and the swell of your-”

“Noah shifted on the bed, and the oddest crunching sound came underneath him. I looked, really looked, at the bed for the first time."What," I asked slowly, as I eyed the animal crackers strewn all over it, "the hell?""You were convinced they were your pets," Noah said, not even trying to suppress his laughter. "You wouldn't let me touch them.”

“You made me real, and I will hurt for you and because of you and be grateful for the pain. But this? This is forever. Don't do this.”

“It doesn't bother me," I said. "If you don't mind looking forty years old at twenty, smelling like an ashtray, and getting lung cancer, why should I?”