I change back into my clothes for the ride to his place. It's still freezing and terrifying on the motorcycle. But that's nothing compared to all the feelings stirring inside me.

We spend the night on the couch, watching science fiction movies. Truth be told, there isn't that much watching going on. Mostly kissing, touching, fucking. It feels amazing, being this close to him. It's like we're in our own little world. Our own bubble.

Like nothing can bring us down.

We spend the night together in his bed. Spend the morning on the couch, sipping coffee and kissing and not really watching The Matrix movies.

The house is beautiful and bright but this time, it's touchable. It's intimate. It's mine. He's mine. I know he's not, that we agreed to keep this all benefits, no friendship but it feels like he's mine.

I press my lips into his. He tastes good. His legs feel good between mine. His chest feels good against mine.

But there's this sound. This annoying melody. It's familiar. It's loud. Dammit.

That's the ringtone I assigned for my parents. And I've been dodging their texts for weeks. There's no more dodging. Once they escalate to phone call, they call and call and call.

"Sorry, I have to take this." I push off the couch and grab my phone. Deep breath. "Hey, Mom. How are you?"

"I've been worried. Did you get my message about Thanksgiving?"

"Yes."

Miles runs his fingers over my shoulder. He whispers, "Tell them you've been busy because you're seeing someone."

"Excuse me." I put my phone over the speaker and turn to Miles. "Are you crazy?"

"Trust me. Tell her you have a boyfriend. It will give you something to talk about besides medical school and your sister."

He's making a compelling argument.

"I'll still come with you," he says. "For Thanksgiving. Hell, invite them to meet us at Nobu tonight. I'll impress them by paying."

"That would impress them."

"I know." He brushes my hair from my eyes. "You have to admit I'm charming. For a scoundrel."

"I don't have to admit that, no."

"But you know it's true."

"Megara." Mom's voice flows through the speaker. "Are you there?"

"Tell her," Miles mouths.

He's right. I should tell her. It's a perfect distraction. The visit will be a million times easier if I have Miles by my side. Being in that house alone, or with just Mom and Dad… It still hurts.

"I'm sorry Mom. That's just… that's Miles. My boyfriend." I take a deep breath. "We've been dating a few months now. And it's kept me busy."

"You're seeing someone?" Her voice is neutral.

"Yeah. He's great. Really, really great. Smart." Damn, what does she want to hear? I've never had to worry about my mom approving of a guy.

"Tell her I went to Stanford," Miles whispers.

That's good. "He's a little older. Graduated from Stanford a few years ago."

"Oh, that's great, sweetie. Miles, was it?" she asks.

"Yes. Miles. You'd like him." Why would she like him? Dammit, how does this parents meeting the boyfriend thing work?

"What's your mom like to do for fun?" Miles whispers.

"Give me a second, Mom." I cover the receiver with my hand and whisper to Miles. "She doesn't have time for fun. She's a surgeon." I rack my brain. Nobody in my family has had fun in a while. "She likes mythology. And foreign films."

"Skip that part. Invite me over for Thanksgiving," he says. "Trust me. She'll be excited that you want to introduce me."

That doesn't sound like Mom, but I'll try. I turn back to my cell. "Sorry, Mom. He's a little distracting. He really wants to meet you guys. Do you think he could come with me for Thanksgiving?"

"You're coming home?" Her voice perks up. "Of course, honey. We were hoping you'd come home. You don't have work?"

"No. My supervisor gave me the entire week off." I bite my tongue. There's no getting out of this now. "Miles, he doesn't have a lot of family around here. I know he'll appreciate this."

"Yes. It will be nice having company since we don't…" Her voice breaks. "You two can stay the weekend. Or just Thursday. Your father is working Friday but it's the early shift. Then the weekend—well, you know the drill."

Ah, the virtues of having a surgeon and an ER doctor for parents. They're always working. If I'd been the type to get in trouble, I could have taken advantage of their busy schedules during high school.

Actually, it's remarkable that they both have Thanksgiving off. Usually, we have dinner at an off time to accommodate their schedules.

"Have you thought about schools?" Mom asks. "UCI's program is improving. You could stay here. It would save you the trouble of finding a place."

"I'm thinking an East Coast school." This isn't where I want this conversation going. I look to Miles for direction.

He shakes his head. "Ask her how she's doing. About work or a hobby."

Yes, of course. It sounds so obvious when he says it. I turn my attention to my phone. "How is work?"

"Busy, of course. Dr. Lee is opening a private practice. She invited me to join, but I'm not sure I can leave the hospital." Mom's voice lifts. This is something she can talk about. "Is Miles at your place, honey? Or are you at his?"

"His."

"And you're being safe?"

Oh God. I'm going to die of embarrassment. But this is nothing. Mom is a surgeon who specializes in gynecology. I'm shocked she isn't using more explicit words.

"Yes, we are," I say.

Miles chuckles.

I put my hand over the phone's mic. "This is not funny."

"You're smiling," he says.

Damn, I am smiling. Okay, it's a little funny.

He motions for the phone.

It's not a bad idea, him talking to her. "Mom, Miles wants to talk to you. To say hi. He's really excited to meet you. Is that okay?"

"He sounds like a polite young man."

Now that is funny. I laugh. It's a belly laugh, one of the best laughs I've had in a while. My mom thinks my rock star fuck buddy is a polite young man.

It's absurd.

I hand the phone to Miles.

Miles laughs. He covers the receiver with his hands. "You are so fucking bad at this."

I flip him off playfully.

"Hey, Dr. Smart. This is Miles. Meg has told me so much about you." His eyes stay on mine. He's smiling ear to ear.

He sweet-talks my mom. I can tell she's charmed from over here. He's welcome to stay as long as he wants. He's thrilled to finally meet my parents he's supposedly heard so much about.

He even says goodbye and ends the call without passing it back to me.

* * *

After lunch, Miles takes me home. It's midterms week. No time for anything but school. I kiss him goodbye, warn him I'll be unavailable, and devote the entirety of my night to studying.

I don't stop until I'm about to fall asleep at my desk.

I brush my teeth and throw myself onto my bed. My phone is still blinking. There's a text from Miles.

Miles: You ready for midterms?

Meg: Not yet. I need to study. I’m not sure I’ll ever be done studying. No time for distracting rock stars with very distracting mouths.

Miles: And hands.

Meg: Yes, and we could add cocks while we're at it.

Miles: Only have the one. That not enough for you?

Meg: You know what I mean!

Miles: I'll get a sex toy.

Meg: Don't start. I have to go to bed. First midterm is at nine a.m.

Miles: Studying all night tomorrow?

Meg: All night every night.

Miles: Been thinking. Sure would be a nice benefit if you could take a relaxing study break at home.

Meg: Yeah?

Miles: Without ever leaving your bed.

Meg: I'm listening. Well, reading.

Miles: Text me tomorrow when you're done studying. For your reward.

Meg: I'm not a puppy.

Miles: You'll like it.

Meg: I'll consider it. Goodnight.

Miles: Dream about me.

I dream about finals. That same awful dream where I wake up late and arrive just as class is getting out. It doesn't happen. I'm early to every exam. I come home. I collapse, drink tea, study my ass off, and fall asleep at my desk. When I wake, my phone is buzzing with a text from Miles.

Miles: Guess that's failure. Don't worry. You can collect your reward tomorrow.

Miles: I dreamt about you.

Miles: Tell you about it later.

Cryptic, as usual. I try to put his flirting out of mind. I have an early test. I need sleep.

It doesn't work. I toss and turn. My body refuses to relax when it comes to the subject of Miles Webb.

It wants him. Whatever it is he's offering, it wants that.

I reply.

Meg: I'm awake and I'm all studied up.

Miles: You are a good girl.

Meg: And you're a very bad boy.

Miles: That's such a stereotype, Megara. I expected better.

I cringe at the sight of my full name. It hasn’t come up since that night. My thoughts go straight back to that awful fight. I was right here, desperate for one single fucking card to play and coming up empty.

There's the sound of a guitar intro. My phone is ringing with a tone I never set. According to the display, Miles is calling me.

It hits me. It's playing that song No Way In Hell. He programmed it into my phone as his personal ringtone.

I answer, playing dumb. "Who is this?"

"Just a young man who is very good with his mouth."

My lips curl into a smile. My concerns fade away. He's making me feel good. That's what matters.

"Is that right?" I tease back.

He laughs. "Mhmm. You swear you're done studying."

"On my love of Jurassic Park."

"And you're awake?"

There's something different about hearing him on the phone. He's closer and farther away all at once. It's like his breath and his voice are right in my ear. Or maybe it's his tone. He almost sounds nervous.

"Wide awake," I say.

"Put your phone on speaker."

I do.

"What are you wearing?"

"Shorts and a tank top."

"Mhmm." His voice gets heavy. "Take off the shorts."

I wait for some sign that he's joking, but there isn't one.

"Do you want to hear me come or do you want to go to bed alone?"