Yoga.

Fuck yoga.

Fuck the skintight pants that did nothing to hide the lumps in her figure. Fuck the snobby instructor who acted like doing a downward dog wasn't an invitation for your body to fart. And especially fuck that same stuck up bitch who was always in one of those classeswho thought she was some yogi-goddess with her unshaven armpits and natural deodorant that most definitely did not work.

Despite her disdain for all things yoga related, Hermione loved Ginny. Especially when she bribed her with baked goods and a Venti cold brew.

Ginny needed a partner for her prenatal yoga, partly because of Harry's inability to bend, but mainly because he asked too many damn questions, and this was supposed to be relaxing, not aneurism inducing.

So, armed with a bit too much caffeine and half a croissant in her stomach, Hermione donned her best stretch pants and participated alongside Ginny. Besides, it was only eight weeks' worth of classes—how bad could it really be?

"Oh look at you! You must be, what? A few months along."

Hermione looked over her shoulder, her brow furrowed in confusion, because there was no fucking way this Barbie-doll blonde bitch had just asked that question. "Uh… What?" She looked back, blowing a stray curl from her face as she rolled up the faded purple mat, praying Ginny would waddle her pregnant ass over and save her from actual human interaction.

"How far along are you?" The blonde repeated, hand rubbing her own swollen belly with the fever of a hungry toddler. "You're getting an early start. Kudos to you! I didn't start attending classes until my third trimester."

She could feel her face pinch as she sucked on her front teeth, stubbed fingernails digging into the soft mat just enough to leave crescent shaped marks embedded in the foam. From where Hermione was standing, she had two very real options for how to handle this: one involved punching a pregnant lady, and the other involved Ginny purchasing her a very large breakfast burrito as an apology.

She was opting for the latter because if someone was going to accuse her of looking pregnant, she could at least eat like a fucking pregnant lady.

"I'm not, but thanks for assuming!" Tucking her mat under her arm, she patted her stomach, a sharp smile lifting her features. "This is all thanks to beer, cheese, and carbs."

"Oh! I'm so sorr—"

"Don't." Lifting her hand to silence the presumptuous yogi, Hermione leaned over to peer around her, finding Ginny halfway across the classroom. "Come on, waddles. Let's blow this popsicle stand before they assume we're a couple."

"What on Earth are you going on about?" Ginny cocked a brow, a hand on her lower back to try and relieve some of the strain her swollen abdomen placed on her petite frame. She moved around the blonde, only offering a friendly wave before slipping out of the room. "We are a couple."

Hermione snorted as she followed, letting the heavy door slam shut behind her. "Oh riiiight. I forgot. Sister Wives." Nudging her friend with her hip, Hermione fell into step beside her as they moved through the fitness center toward the parking lot.

"Except you don't sleep with my husband."

"Yeah, no. That would be weird."

"Which begs the question… Did you shag Mr. Friday night?"

Ginny had managed to hold off for two whole days. Saturday hadn't really allowed Ginny time for the typical cross examination post-date, and Sunday, per usual, Hermione had shut herself off from the world to finish her latest book, Bernardine Evaristo's Girl, Woman, Other.

If Sundays were for religion, Hermione had always found herself eager to worship at the altar of the written word. She partook in the sacrament of coffee and left-overs, while losing herself in far away worlds. It had been a habit for years now, with its roots going back as far as she could remember to when she'd curl up between her parents in their king-size bed and they'd take turns reading books aloud.

Charlotte's Web, James and the Giant Peach, and Anne of Green Gables were her Old Testament, the foundation on which her literary life was built. Stephen Chbosky, Suzanne Collins, and Chuck Palahniuk her apostles that helped guide her through the most difficult time in her life. She found forgiveness, respite, and love in the words written by others and, although many things came and went from her life, her love for books remained.

Harry and Ginny never questioned her Sunday ritual, and instead let her burrow away in the safety of paperbacks and blankets for twenty-four hours before they'd help pry her from the grip of fiction and return to the grace that was their friendship.

"Maybe."

"You bitch!" An elbow nudged her side, and Hermione stepped away to avoid the second blow, her hand curling around her ribs. "I can't believe you didn't tell me immediately!"

"I'm sorry!" She wasn't. She didn't have too many secrets to keep—aside from that whole two year affair with Theo… and the one time she saw Harry naked… and that time her and Ginny made out in some Palo Alto bar… and now Draco. So… four. Four secrets wasn't too much, was it? By her accounts, she likely had less than most Americans, so she still considered herself in the black—so to speak. "Texting you wasn't really on the forefront of my mind after our night together."

"So, was he good?" Ginny pressed, brown eyes wide with excitement as she moved to rub the front of her swollen stomach. "You need to tell me everything right now."

Was he good? Did a bear shit in the woods? Of course he was good! But she couldn't very well divulge that. After all, they were adults—these things weren't discussed… in public.

"He was… gifted." Hermione slipped her keys from the side pocket of her gym bag, thumb sliding across the wing logo as she tried to prevent the shit eating grin from stretching across her lips as Ginny let out a little whoop.

"Yes! Tell me more! Does he eat—"

"Alright, Adam Carolla, can we keep Love Line PG until we make it to the car?" Hermione lifted her brows expectantly, laughing when Ginny made a zipping motion over her lips shortly followed by a small bout of clapping before she sped-waddled across the parking lot toward her MINI.

Hermione took her time, falling three steps behind her friend just for the sole purpose of driving her insane. She let an elderly driver cross the lane, and made a great effort to make sure her gym bag was safely stored in her trunk, before climbing into the driver's seat where Ginny practically pounced on her once the door was shut.

"Spill! How big is he? Talented mouth? Which hotel did you stay at? Did he pay for dinner? Bloody hell, did you even make it to dinner?"

Hermione pulled out of the parking spot, laughter filling up the small cabin of her vehicle as she maneuvered through the cars. "Yes, Yes, the Ritz, and dinner was had—room service after many, many drinks at Trader Sam's. Jesus Christ, do I need to have a conversation with Harry because you're more thirsty than usual?"

Ginny sagged back in the passenger seat with an exasperated sigh, hands resting on top of her bump. "Feel bloody free! That best friend of yours hasn't touched me in weeks! 'I don't want to hit the baby.' 'What if he can feel it?'" Had her grip been any more relaxed on the wheel, Hermione might have careened off the road due to uncontrollable laughter at the bumbling slow tone Ginny fell into when mocking her spouse. "He doesn't have a bloody twelve inch cock! I told him it's physically impossible, but heaven forbid."

Merging onto the freeway had never been harder. Thankfully, she'd splurged on the lane assist. Reaching out, Hermione patted Ginny's hand in mock sympathy before dabbing the corner of her eyes with her knuckles. "Oh, you poor thing."

"I know! Anyways—he took you to the Ritz? Who is this bloke and does he have a brother with a pregnancy kink?"

"I'm actually not entirely sure what his family breakdown is. It never came up." To be fair, she never asked. She might have also purposefully avoided topics such as family, the future, and… Well, anything that would make their date something other than casual fun. "But I get the impression he's an only child."

"You get the impression he's an only child? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"He just gives off this… vibe." Her fingers drummed on the leather covered steering wheel as they slowed to a crawl in mid-afternoon traffic.

"A vibe?"

"Yeah."

"What, pray tell, is an only child vibe, Hermione?"

"Mouthy, charming, knows how attractive they are because their parents doted on them every bloody second of the day."

"Harry is only half of those." Ginny furrowed her brow, nose wrinkling as she peered out the window, watching the cityscape roll past them at a snail's pace.

"Yeah, but he's an orphan so that takes precedence over his only child status." She lifted her hand off the wheel, giving a small rolling gesture. "He gets the charming part with none of the self absorbedness."

"Okay—well, what about you? You're an only child and not in love with your own reflection."

"Again—orphan."

"Your parents died when you were fifteen, Hermione," Ginny scoffed. "I'd hardly call you an orphan."

Hermione tried to bite back the bitter laugh that bubbled up her throat. Ginny would never understand what it felt like to spend Christmas alone, or realise that there would be no one waiting to help pick you up after your failures. She had family, loads, and loads of fucking family—brothers, and cousins, and crazy aunts to spare. Where Hermione had… no one.

Her parents were only children of only children.

The Granger family name would live and die with her, a small fact that still plagued her during her darkest moments.

Ginny's ignorance to this fact wasn't meant to be unkind, Hermione knew this since the redhead likely didn't possess a single bone of malice in her body. So, instead of letting it bother her, Hermione opted to do what she did best.

Deflect.

"Any other questions? Or can we consider this topic finished?"

Ginny snorted as unladylike and loudly as possible, a small glorious reminder that, while she was a looker and a much better partner than Hermione could ever be, she was still capable of basic human flaws. "Absolutely not. We've got at least forty minutes until we make it home—I expect you to rehash every detail of your date. Leave nothing out."


"I can't believe I agreed to this." Theo sighed into the rim of his pint of ale before he took a large swig, trailing behind Eli who seemed intent on running full steam ahead between the flashing arcade machines that littered the game area. "Remind me again why you picked this bloody place."

Because it was across the bay.

Because no one would run into them here.

Because they had amazing pizza. (Here's looking at you, peanut butter pizza!)

"Because it's fun. Eli's having a blast." Hermione lifted two fingers off her own pint, gesturing toward his son who had just found a flashing SpongeBob Whack-A-Patrick machine. "And I'm also the fucking coolest, haven't you figured that out yet?"

Theo hummed in amusement as he fell into step beside her, right arm slowly reaching out to wind around her waist in a gesture that felt far too romantic to simply be friendly. He did this from time to time, crossed that carefully constructed line she'd made three months into their tryst. At first, she thought maybe he did want more, but clearly that wasn't the case. Perhaps it was for appearances. No one would think it odd they were together if he treated her like something more in public.

His index finger looped in her belt loop, tugging her closer until her hip pressed against his thigh. "You are pretty spectacular."

She leaned into him, allowing the warmth from his side to creep into the thin cotton of her t-shirt dress. "You know, Mr. Nott, flattery will get you nowhere, right?" Hermione glanced up at him through thick lashes, her lips quirking to the side before she wiggled from his hold to meander along the skee-ball machines. "What did you want to meet up for, anyway? Not that I mind the free meal, but our typical liaisons don't involve Eli."

"We've taken you out before." While his statement wasn't entirely untrue, as she had gone out to dinner with the father-son duo on more than one occasion, it was usually a prelude to some fantastic sex later in the evening, and she knew damn well that Tuesday nights were not one of their opportunities for such activities. No, Theo needed to drop Eli off with E.M. at eight-o-clock, as per their schedule. "We took you to that place for your birthday. You know, the one with the train…" He snapped his fingers, face scrunched up in thought. "Spaghetti Warehouse?"

"Old Spaghetti Factory."

"Yeah! That one!"

Hermione nodded, laughing into her pint glass as she took another sip. "My apologies, you're absolutely correct. Sometimes you do take me out before bending me over your mattress." She could feel eyes on her almost immediately after the words left her lips, and the judgement from the parents who trailed their own spawn was near palpable. "But, we both know this isn't one of those occasions. So, spill the beans, Nott. What's up?"

As if on cue, Theo's eyes drifted away from hers, and he suddenly took a keen interest in finishing his ale.

He was nervous.

He was hesitating.

Fuck.

"...Theo?" She couldn't keep the drip of worry from her voice as she watched him run his fingers through his hair in that telltale sign of apprehension. The same tell he'd use when E.M. was trying to get him to agree something he wasn't comfortable with. That half grimace of hesitation already masked his smile and her heart nearly sank.

Well, this was it.

They'd had a good run.

Just shy of two years wasn't bad... considering.

She always knew it would come to an end. He had a boyfriend, and well... Technically, she wasn't anything to him. Nothing short of a good lay a couple times a week. A stress relief from work. A laugh when they were with their group of friends. She was the cute, chubby girl he'd taken pity on and fucked into submission.

She could already feel the lump form, and her palms suddenly felt hot, despite the cool beer in her hands. A flush rolled across her cheeks as she said his name again, coming to a stop in the middle of the aisle.

The cacophony of the Fruit Ninja machine was harsh and unforgiving, making her anxiety tick up and up until her stomach felt as if it had folded itself into a Gordian Knot in some attempt to claw its way up her throat. Her heart raced, and she could feel the pin prick of those walls she thought she'd erected begin to crumble.

Fun.

Casual.

Ha!

It all seemed so laughable now that she was on the verge of tears in the middle of a fucking Incredible John's Pizza. Surrounded by flashing lights, snotty kids, and the fragments of broken families just trying to outdo their ex-partner with a better weekend with the kids.

"I've been meaning to tell you this… but there hasn't been a good time—"

Of course not. Was there ever a good time for this sort of thing? Even if there was, she highly doubted it was now—here.

"But… Uh… My boyfriend's in town for a while and… Well—"

"You want to focus on your relationship. Right. Totally understandable." It sounded genuine, despite the small waiver to her voice, and Hermione pressed her lips together in a tight smile before she lifted her glass to take a large gulp. Thank fuck they served beer at this hell hole, even if it was Bud Light.

"What? No! Well, I mean, sure, why not but… Wait did you think I asked you to come so I could… let you down easy?" Theo ran his tongue across his lips as he shook his head, dark green eyes darting away to track his son before he looked back toward her and took a large step to close the distance. His hand went to her arm, thick fingers curling around her bicep. "Jesus Christ, I'm not some bloody arsehole. I would never end things with you in a bloody pizza parlor."

"It's technically a pizza buffet."

Theo laughed. That kind of laugh that made his eyes smile and body shake. Genuine. Honest. Compassionate. Everything that she valued in their off-kilter friendship. In her experience men were assholes. They lied, they cheated, and they weren't very deep. It wasn't until Harry waltzed into her life that she saw it was possible for some of them not to suck. And Theo? Theo was making his way onto her exception list one crooked smile at a time.

"You're so daft sometimes, Granger." He squeezed her arm gently, teeth sinking into his bottom lip in that adorable boy-next-door kind of way that made her toes tingle and heart sing. Fuck him for being so good looking when he was seconds away from possibly, maybe (okay, so maybe she was over reacting) breaking up with her. Fuck him for being so charming. Fuck him for weaseling his way into her heart over the course of two years.

"So you don't want to… ya know?" Her index finger tapped on the pint glass. "End this?"

"No."

Thank fucking God.

She could breathe again. That lump in her throat began to subside and the worry that ate at her stomach no longer felt so debilitating. Nevermind the clearly physical reaction she was having, she would have to worry about the logistics behind it later, because God forbid she actually assessed that her feelings for him went deeper than the bedroom rumba they'd been dancing for forty-eight months. No. That level of introspection would best be handled at a much later date.

"Unless you want—"

"I don't." She might have said it a little too fast, too eager, too needy, but his reaction was worth her flub. His eyes sparkled. Brilliant dark green gemstones glittered like the fucking Hope Diamond at her like she'd just given him a life preserver while he was lost at sea. Her heart might have involuntarily skipped a beat, and for half a second, she considered what that look meant, but then that nagging black cloud that always lingered in the back of her mind returned with a vengeance.

Of course he didn't want it to end.

Why would he?

His boyfriend was here—but that was only temporary, wasn't it?

If they ended their little game… Well, then he'd have no one to warm his bed for the rest of the year.

"So..." She finished off her beer, wincing as the too large gulp forced its way down her throat and she wiped her mouth across the back of her hand. "Your boyfriend's in town. That must be nice."

She moved down the aisle, side stepping running children as she looked through the crowd for Eli, teeth worrying the bottom corner of her mouth. She could feel Theo fall in step beside her, the gentle brush of his shoulder against hers letting her know just how fucking close he lingered.

"Yeah. It is."

"Is he staying with you?" She shouldn't have asked, it really wasn't her business, but he was her friend, right? They could have a normal discussion about this sort of thing.

"No." The word sounded bitter, far deeper than the two little letters. "But he'll stay over sometimes. Which is why our meet ups might be infrequent."

She chanced a quick glance out of the corner of her eye, and almost wished she hadn't. He was nursing the final sip of his ale, eyes downcast to stare at the dirty carpet, and where moments earlier hope sparkled his eyes, it was almost as if someone had turned off the lights in a room. He was pained—the unspoken disappointment so evident it made her wish she knew his stupid boyfriend so she could call and give him a piece of her mind.

"That's okay." Reaching out, she let her fingertips trail against his knuckles, the gesture a small sliver of the type of intimacy she could provide him—at least in public. "I hope you two get to spend enough time together." Okay, that last part was only slightly a lie.

She cared for Theo, not strictly in the biblical sense either. He was her friend, and she knew he was happy with his relationship, and that he cared deeply for his boyfriend. So, even if a small part of her was morbidly curious and jealous about the logistics of how they operated, she could put that aside to be a better friend than lover.

"Yeah… me too." His palm turned over, and his fingers slowly slipped between hers. He didn't complete the hand hold, he didn't tighten his grip or press their palms together, but it felt more intimate than either had ever been in the past. It felt like a perfect representation of them. Halfway. Not quite fulfilling the cavity of craving for true intimacy, but just enough to graze the surface.

She let their fingers stay twined for several minutes as they followed the rambunctious child, careful to make sure he never saw the gesture. Turning at the end of the aisle, Hermione broke away from Theo, moving behind Eli, who was swiping the little plastic card at a dinosaur claw machine. Setting her empty pint glass down on top of the machine, she squatted beside him. "Which one you going for, Bubba?"

"The green one." Eli's eyes were narrowed in concentration, little pink tongue held between his teeth, as he maneuvered the claw with as much finesse as a baby deer.

Pressing her finger to the foggy glass littered with fingerprints, she pointed to a lime green, three-horned monstrosity in the back. "That one?"

"Noo. Not the triceratops. The rex!"

"Of course, how could I possibly think you liked the triceratops?" Hermione nudged Eli with her shoulder playfully, looping her arm around his middle as she pressed her chin against his shoulder so she could guide him properly toward his goal. "A little more to the left… Your other left. No, Eli the other way."

"He's four, Granger. He doesn't know his left from right." Theo kneeled down on the opposite side of his son, large hand curled around the top of the machine to steady him as his other arm came to curl around both Eli and her. His hand rested comfortably on her lower back, as if the space were made to cradle his palm.

Before she could correct the claw placement further, Eli jammed his thumb against the faded red button and let out a small groan of disappointment went it came up empty handed, only having just grazed the leg of the plastic t-rex.

"It's okay. We can try again." Hermione motioned towards the little card reader and waited for him to slide the plastic through once more before she reached out to adjust his position, trying her best to ignore the way Theo's thumb swept across her spine as he helped direct her in hushed tones.

"To the left… just a little—oh, too far. Back… back… there!"

Eli bubbled, bouncing on his toes as he watched the silver claw move, and Hermione could feel her smile widen. Theo got lucky. Two beautiful people rarely made cute kids. And E.M.? Well, she was a literal beauty queen and lord only knew the amount of male modeling Theo could have done had it not been for an overbearing patriarch.

"Alright, Bub. Hit the button." She let her hand fall against her thigh, and when Eli jammed the button for a second time, she watched the claw lower with bated breath, hoping they might be successful this attempt for Eli's sake—and maybe only a small part because she was competitive and wanted to win.

"YESSSS!"

Little arms flew around her neck, and Eli's forty pound frame collided against hers with the enthusiasm of an overgrown puppy. Laughter bubbled up her throat as she fell backwards on the filthy carpet, arms wrapping around the boy to cushion him against her front.

"Elijah Harrison Nott!"

Theo's tone dripped like honey, igniting the most primal part of her being. It was nearly that same deep, booming tone he took in the bedroom. Something she'd come to realise was that his 'stern dad' voice and 'bedroom edict' were almost of the same baritone, and she was suddenly thankful for their limited interactions as a group.

"It's fine. He's fine!" Hermione pressed a kiss against Eli's temple, patting his back gently before easing him off her.

"He doesn't need to—"

"He's a kid, Theo. It's fine. Honest."

"Still." Theo's brow furrowed as he watched his son sheepishly stand, little hands tugging at the hem of his Paw Patrol shirt. "You need to say sorry for knocking Hermione over." Theo crawled closer, still on a tall knee. One large hand curled over hers and the other cupped her shoulder as he eased her up off the ground to a sitting position.

"I'm sorry, Minnie." His voice was soft, watery even, and her heart instantly broke. Jesus, this was exactly why she didn't have children. Never mind the fact that she wasn't financially or mentally ready for offspring, it was her complete and utter inability to not fall to pieces when they were sad or hurt. "I didn't mean to…"

"I know." Pushing up on her knees, she reached out to pull the boy to her for a firm hug, pressing a tender kiss on the crown of his head. "It's alright. I'm not hurt."

She heard sniffles—actual fucking sniffles—against her chest as his little hands curled into her shirt. She looked up, shooting daggers at Theo, who watched the little scene with something akin to skepticism. Like he'd seen this song and dance before and didn't buy a minute of this show his son was putting on. But the hot tears that splashed against her chest were real! Theo clearly had blinders on.

"Hey, hey, hey. No tears." Reaching down, she tipped his chin up so she could look at his face. Sweeping her thumbs across his cheeks, she smiled down at him, trying her best to ignore his quivering lower lip. "Get your t-rex and I'll take you to get some of those mini donuts, yeah?"

"A-and ice cream?"

"Duh. Is there any other way?"

And just like that, the water works stopped.

"Okay!" He slipped from her hold without an ounce of hesitation and pulled the plastic treasure from the machine before he darted off through the arcade toward the buffet.

Hermione sat back on her heels, watching his little blond head bob through the crowd, dumbfounded. He had… But… The tears were… "Did… Did I just get played? By a four- year-old?"

"Uh huh."

"That little shit." Hermione pushed up off the floor, hands brushing the dust from her knees.

"I tried to warn you." Theo looped his arm around her shoulders, carrying both of their empty pint glasses. "You're too soft, Granger."

"I am not! I just… Wow. He's lucky he's cute." Her arm looped around his tapered waist, head falling against his muscular shoulder.

"I remind him of that fact. Often."

Mini donuts and ice cream were had, much to Theo's chagrin. By the time the sugar high wore off, Eli was passed out in a booth, head in Hermione's lap, little body stretched out along the vinyl bench seat.

Her fingers idly carded through his hair as she sat back, sipping the last of her iced tea down in an attempt to sober up a bit more before getting on the road and heading back to San Jose.

"Okay, so I know it's none of my business, but… Theo, just because you've been with this guy since your balls dropped doesn't mean you're obligated to stay with him, you know that right?"

Okay, maybe she was overstepping her carefully curated line as friend/fuck buddy, but someone needed to tell him.

Theo sighed, head tipping back against the cushioned seat and he lifted his hand to his hair, fingers disappearing into the soft brown locks. "It's… more complicated than that, Granger. I know from your perspective it probably looks bad."

"Uh… yeah. He's traveled thousands of miles to visit you but won't stay in your home… Doesn't want to meet your friends… And basically sets the terms of when you can or cannot hang out." She held up three fingers, brows lifting as Theo caught her gaze once more. "Look, I'm not a doctor, but this isn't really fair to you—or Eli. You say you love him, but… If I'm being honest, Theo, he sounds really manipulative."

"Hermione we have history. Not just the shagging in our dorm rooms kind of history. I… I'm far from perfect, and he's forgiven me time and time again. I had a fucking kid with someone while we were dating, and he forgave me." He tossed a hand toward Eli. "And now? Now I live across the globe and we're making it work. It isn't textbook, and sometimes it might seem like he's being unfair, but it's not—really. If you could just meet him—"

"Yeah, but clearly that won't happen for a number of reasons. Beginning with us screwing and ending with him being a shut in."

"He's not a… You know what? I'm not going to defend him. He is a prick. He's moody and still closeted, but you know what? He's mine and I love him and… Maybe I'm daft, but I know he'll change. This isn't easy—coming out as bisexual and polyamorous? It's a lot, especially for families like ours, so I'll be patient and hope that it won't take him until we're old and gray for him to come out."

Her fingers flexed against the table top, and the hand moving Eli's hair froze as she listened to the conviction in his tone. She didn't know their history, and maybe she was judging this mystery man unfairly, but it was hard not to when everything she'd been told was all half information and anonymity for the sake of a man she wasn't sure was worthy of Theo's devotion.

Despite justifying her concern under the mask of friendship, deep down, Hermione knew the real reason for not liking his boyfriend.

She was jealous.

Jealous that he got Theo's attention.

Jealous he'd won his heart.

Jealous that Theo even wanted to be with him.

They were polyamorous, clearly there must be the possibility of Theo having space in his heart to adore another, but… Well, she clearly wasn't it.

And maybe that was the hardest pill to swallow in the whole mess.

She wasn't enough to earn his love, just his cock.

"Okay… I just… I just want you to know you're worth it, Theo. You deserve to be with someone who wants to be with you just as much as you want to be with them. So don't try to force something if it isn't working. Life's too short to wait around for someone to make up their damn mind."

"Yeah… Well, maybe that's my lot in life," he drummed his fingers against the table, his voice tinny and sharp, "to pine after people who aren't ready to commit."

She let her eyes fall to the boy in her lap, the sardonicism of his words felt like he was hinting at something she wasn't yet privy to. Eli shifted under her touch, thin arms curling around her middle as he nuzzled closer, and she watched his pouty lips part with a sleepy sigh.

She should get on the road soon. She had some emails to send, loose ends to tie up at work, but she could afford a couple more minutes. After all, Eli was comfortable and Theo clearly needed a friend.

Forcing her feelings back, she locked the jealousy and pain in the little box in the centre of her heart, shoving it beside the trauma from her past, and told herself she'd deal with it later—like always.

"So, any plans for while he's out?"

"Yeah… We're going to do Santa Cruz at the end of the week."

"The Boardwalk? Oh man, I haven't been there in ages."


Author's Note:

Hey look! I wrote a SFW chapter. weird. ;)

Massive thank you's to my team, lumoslyra, lissadream, & dreamsofdramione. My docs are a mess without them. Huge shouty thank you to you all for the likes, reviews, comments, kudos and recs!

obligatory shameless self promotion: Find me on facebook Msmerlin Eff, & Tumblr msmerlin-black. I also admin a mutli & triad facebook group called 'Restricted Section: Multi & Triads' so if you like three or more people involved in your fanficiton romances, come check us out! So many talented writers in that group!

until next time. xx