Author's Notes: I'm sorry. I hope this flows enough and isn't too jarring. I'm still scraping my way out of my writer's block.

Chapter 32

Day 15

Maeve was leaning against the locker beside Otis', watching him as he transferred items between it and his bag.

"Mum really won't mind if you stay again tonight," Otis said. "You heard her."

"Tomorrow night. The weekend," Maeve said. "I just want to spend a night at home before we go away. Pack my bags."

"Okay," Otis said, closing his locker. "Do you want us to bring over the groceries?"

"I didn't get much since we're going away," Maeve said. "Will Jean mind if I leave them there until we get back?"

"Of course not."

"So, are you coming over after seeing Maria tonight?" Maeve asked.

"Yeah," Otis said. "I really couldn't face bumping into one of mum's clients right after a session with Maria. She's got a couple of late ones booked.""

"Do you think Jean would let you stay the night?" Maeve asked. "Since it's not a weekend?"

"I'll ask her, but…" He sighed. "I'd need a change of clothes and I don't have time to go home before my session."

"I could get something for you," Maeve said. "I don't mind."

"Are you sure?" Otis asked.

"Yeah," Maeve said. "What do want for tomorrow? Your squirrel shirt?"

"I think that shirt belongs to you now," Otis said with a smirk. "You look much better in it than I do."

"Pervert," Maeve said, smiling softly to herself. "So what do you want?"

"You choose."

"You're going to let me dress you?" Maeve smirked.

"That's a boyfriend/girlfriend thing, isn't it?"

"Sometimes."

"And maybe sometime, I can dress you," Otis suggested and pressed his lips together, anticipating her reaction.

"I'm not your personal Barbie, Milburn," she snapped softly.

Otis leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I wasn't thinking of dressing you as Barbie."

"Pervert," Maeve said with a soft smile, biting her lip.

"I should go," Otis said. "I've got Miss Brigham first up and it's all the way on the other side."

"I'll see you at recess," Maeve said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips and then watching as he turned and walked along the hallway.

When he disappeared around the corner, she sighed, turned and stopped at the sight of Lily standing at her locker. Her eyes lit up and she hurried across the hallway, leaning against the locker next to Lily's, waiting.

When Lily closed the door of her locker and saw Maeve staring at her, she startled and then said, fascinated. "Oh, that is scary. Not you. Me. People say it's scary when I suddenly appear like that. I hadn't realised until now."

"I need to talk to you, Lily," Maeve said.

"I don't want your boyfriend's dick anymore," Lily said in her usual monotone.

"Not about that," Maeve said with a grimace. "Do you do commissions?"

"What do you mean?" Lily frowned.

"Drawings," Maeve said. "Do you do drawings for other people?"

"You want me to draw something for you?"

Maeve nodded. "I can't pay you a lot but maybe I could do something else for you? Do you need help with your essays?"

"Miss Sands says she's sick of me referring to tentacle penises in my essays," Lily said.

"I can help you with that," Maeve said.

"What do you want me to draw?" Lily asked.

Maeve took a piece of paper from her jacket pocket and handed it to Lily, biting her lip nervously.

Lily studied the hurried sketch Maeve had drawn on the paper.

"I'm glad you put their names underneath," Lily said. "I had no idea who they were supposed to be."

"Well, you're the fucking artist," Maeve snapped. "That's why I need you to do it. Sorry," she continued, biting her lip, annoyed with herself.

Lily shrugged, unconcerned.

"How long do you think it will take?" Maeve asked.

"What size do you want it?" Lily asked.

"About that," Maeve said, holding out her hands to demonstrate.

"It would be easier to draw it bigger than that," Lily said.

"Whatever you think," Maeve said. "So you'll do it?"

"When do you need it by?" Lily asked.

"The day before Christmas Eve, at the latest," Maeve said. "I'm going away with Otis and his mum for Christmas and I'll need to get it framed so I can give it to him Christmas Day."

"We're going away on Sunday," Lily said. "I can get it to you by Saturday. Probably late. I can have it framed. I have frames that size."

"Will you have time?" Maeve asked.

"I can draw really quickly," Lily said then noticed the concern on Maeve's face. "Without sacrificing quality. I've had lots of practice."

"That would be great," Maeve said, relieved. "I so owe you, Lily."

"Would you pose naked for me?" Lily asked.

"No," protested Maeve, too startled at the suggestion to be angry.

"Nobody poses naked anymore," Lily pouted.

Otis emerged from a classroom into the hallway and glanced up as Eric stepped up beside him.

"So when are we giving the presents?" Eric asked as they began to walk to their next class.

"You've got something for Maeve already?" Otis asked, surprised. "What is it? Is it a bangle?"

"I'm not telling you," Eric said. "You will see it when I give it to her."

"Aimee gave me her present that I'm supposed to give Maeve on Christmas Day," Otis said.

"I am not Aimee," Eric said then frowned. "You're really not having a present-giving before you go away?"

"I just thought we'd give each other their presents and they'd get opened Christmas Day," Otis said, feebly.

"What kind of monster are you, Otis Milburn?" Eric said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"That's what we did in the past when I went away," Otis protested.

"That's when it was just us," Eric said. "Now you have friends."

"We have friends," Otis corrected.

"Yes," Eric said. "And friends need to share the present-giving in person with their friends."

"We have friends," Otis murmured in near disbelief.

"I told you this was our year," Eric said.

"I suppose we could give presents after the movies, once we get back to my place," Otis said. "I'll convince Aimee it's the way to do it."

"Do we have to buy presents for everyone?" Eric asked, suddenly concerned.

"I don't know," Otis said, frowning. "I mean, we probably should. If you're insisting we have a present-giving gathering, we should make sure everyone there is given a present. God, what do I get Steve and Aimee? And Ola?"

"More importantly, what have you got Maeve?" Eric asked.

"You'll have to wait and see," Otis said.

"You have got Maeve something already, haven't you? Other than your penis?"

"Of course," Otis said, affronted.

"How many?" Eric asked, knowingly.

"Four," Otis said, sheepishly. "So far. I think I've gone stupid. And what do you mean, other than my penis?"

"Don't tell me you're still not going to have sex with Maeve on Christmas Day?" Eric asked in disbelief. "That's the perfect time to give her your dick in a box, all wrapped up in tinsel and glittery. She'll love it."

Maeve sat near the steps at the front of the school watching Otis walk back and forth across the grass, talking into his phone. Aimee and Steve sat near her.

"But if we have a present-gathering, I'll have to get something for everybody," Aimee was saying, panicked. "I don't know what I could get everybody. I don't really know everybody. What do I get everybody?"

"I don't know," Maeve said. "I can't afford anything else. I haven't even got you a separate present, Steve. I just hope you like what I got for Aimee. It can be for both of you."

"It's okay, Maeve," Steve said. "I went shares with Aimee for you."

"What does everybody like? What does Eric like? What does Ola like? What does Otis like?" Aimee stopped, horrified. "We never got anything for Otis. We were showing him what we got for you and I never thought I should have got something for him, too."

"He won't mind," Maeve said.

"I have to get him something," Aimee said, distressed.

"It's okay, babe," Steve said, putting his arm around her. "We'll think of something."

"Just get him a two quid scratchie," Maeve said. "Get everybody a two quid scratchie."

"I need to get him something personal," Aimee said. "What does he like?"

"Margot Robbie," Maeve smirked.

"Trophy Wife or Psycho Chick?" Aimee asked, urgently.

Maeve waved her hands in the direction of her hair.

"I know what I can get him," Aimee said, firmly, satisfied.

"What are you going to do?" Maeve asked, amused. "Hire a Psycho Chick strippergram?"

"No," Aimee said, equally amused. "That's your job."

Maeve blinked in surprise that she hadn't thought of that idea herself.

"Should we get Jean something?" Steve asked. "We should get Jean something. Ask Otis what she likes."

"Mum says it's okay for me to stay," Otis said as he approached, putting his phone in his pocket. "She'll be expecting you this afternoon to collect some clothes."

Maeve reached out to push the doorbell at the Milburn residence then hesitated. She didn't want to disturb Jean if she was with a client. She frowned, pondering, then remembered and reached into her bag for the key.

Unlocking the door, she entered and quietly closed it behind herself.

Stepping into the kitchen, she placed her bag on the table then glanced through the hallway door, saw that Jean's office was closed, confirming to herself that she was with a client.

She hurried upstairs.

When she returned, carrying a t-shirt, jacket, trousers, socks and boxers, Jean was leaning against the kitchen bench, sipping a cup of coffee. Maeve noticed another empty cup sitting on the bench.

"I could see you had arrived," Jean said, warmly.

"I'm sorry," Maeve said. "I didn't ring the doorbell because I thought you might be with a client. I've still got the key. Here, I'll give it back."

"Keep it," Jean said. "It's already proven handy."

"Thanks," Maeve said quietly and walked over to her bag, putting the clothes on the table.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Jean asked. "I have about an hour before my next client. Unless you have to rush off."

"No," Maeve said as she began folding the clothes. "I mean, I don't have to rush off. I'd love a cuppa. Thanks."

Jean put her own cup down and began preparing a cup for Maeve.

"And thanks for letting Otis stay at my place tonight," Maeve said. "Since it isn't the weekend."

"You can always stay here again," Jean said. "I don't mind."

"I just want to sleep at home one night since I won't be there for a couple of weeks," Maeve said.

"I understand," Jean said.

"You're going to get sick of me if I don't take a break with staying here," Maeve said.

"Of course not," Jean said. "It's ready."

"Thanks."

"Would you care to sit on the balcony?" Jean asked.

"Sure," Maeve said and collected her cup of tea and followed Jean outside.

"This is so nice here," Maeve said as she sat down.

"Yes," Jean said. "So peaceful. I especially enjoy sitting out here in the morning and late afternoon."

"I love the quiet but I rarely get it," Maeve said. "I'll sit outside my caravan for the air and you can always hear the shit going on around and the view sucks fucking monkey balls. Sorry."

"What the fuck are you apologising for?" Jean asked, amused.

Maeve smiled to herself and sipped her tea quietly, pondering and then bit her lip.

"Jean…?" she began tentatively.

"Hmmm?" Jean hummed.

"Do you know if there's any places near where your dad lives that do dancing? I mean, slow dancing," she clarified.

"Do you mean, formal dancing?" Jean asked.

"No, just… not a night club or anything like that," Maeve said. "Just somewhere that plays— like the music you liked. Oldies stuff."

"Are we talking Glenn Miller era or the Doobie Brothers?" Jean asked, amused.

"Who's Glenn Miller?" Maeve asked.

"Doobie Brothers, then," Jean said.

"I don't know who they are either," Maeve said, sheepishly. "Might need to ask Otis what we mean. He'll know."

"You like my oldies stuff?" Jean asked, amused.

"Oh, shit," Maeve said. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I just meant-"

Jean shook her head, still amused, and said, "I'm not sure what type of dance venues there are where dad lives. I can ask him but I'm not sure he would know. I think his dancing days are long behind him."

"I think it might be the 70's stuff," Maeve said. "'We could be heroes just for one day' was 70's, wasn't it?"

"Bowie? Yes, that was the 70's," Jean said.

"Otis has been playing me some of that stuff," Maeve said, smiling fondly at the memories. "Telling me something about them."

"Oh, yes, I had many boyfriends like that," Jean said, amused.

"No, I really like it," Maeve said. "I love his enthusiasm."

"And are you sharing your musical knowledge with him?"

"Nah," Maeve said. "I mean, we listen to my stuff but I don't know anything about most of it. I'm just, 'I like that. Who does it? Play it again.' Except for some stuff like Pussy Riot and Nads On Fire and The Hard-Ons. I could talk to him about them."

"I'm so old I remember the days of my father being shocked at the mention of the Sex Pistols on television," Jean said, amused, and began an imitiation of her father. "'Shouldn't be allowed. It's disgraceful. They need to knock that bollocks on the head.'"

"Did he really say 'bollocks'?" Maeve asked, laughing.

"He does in my memory of it," Jean said. "But I could be just remembering it like that because of the album."

"What album?"

"Their album was called, 'Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's The Sex Pistols," Jean said.

"Do you have it?"

"Not my cup of tea, I'm afraid," Jean said, nose crinkling.

"I'll have to ask Otis about it," Maeve said.

Otis sat in the chair opposite Maria, staring down at his hands in his lap.

"Eric thinks that wasn't the first time dad cheated," he said quietly.

"What does Maeve think?" Maria asked.

"Maeve just doesn't know. She's never met my dad."

"What do you think?"

"I don't know. It's possible, I suppose," Otis shrugged. "But..."

"Why would Eric think your father may have cheated before?" Maria asked. "Were you friends at that point?"

"No, I didn't meet him until years later."

"So why would he think that wasn't the first time your father cheated on your mother?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask him," Otis said. "I should have asked him."

"Has he met your father?"

"Yes," Otis nodded.

"Do you think he would have seen your father cheating?"

"No," Otis said, decisively. "He would have told me when I told him the thing about dad if he had."

"So what do you think there is about your father that would make Eric think he had already cheated on your mother?"

"I don't know," Otis said. "Maybe the groupies."

"Groupies?" Maria asked, puzzled.

"On his book tour. When I visited. I told Eric about them. They were always throwing themselves at him."

"Do you think he took advantage of the situation?"

"I don't know," Otis said. "I never saw anything that looked like that but… I wouldn't, would I? He never brought them back to the hotel room."

Maria glanced at the clock and thought for a moment.

"If you knew for certain that your father had cheated on your mother before that day you caught him, would that change your feelings about what happened afterward?"

"Even if he had cheated, mum only found out about it because I told her," Otis said.

"That still doesn't make the divorce your fault," Maria said. "That's too large of a burden for the four-year-old you to take upon yourself. While you're away, will you think on that?"

Maeve sat at the table in her caravan, trying to stop the curling pizza slice in her hand drip melted cheese onto the tabletop as she brought it to her mouth.

"She's right," she said and took a bite. "Even if you hadn't let her know, she would have found out eventually," she continued after she swallowed. "If your father was that careless to leave the door unlocked with you in the house, he would have fucked up eventually."

"Maybe…" Otis murmured as he ate his own slice of pizza.

"He would have," Maeve said. "People who cheat always fuck up eventually."

"Not always," Otis said.

"Well, in any case, it's still not your fault," Maeve said. "The divorce is all on your dad. Not you."

Otis took another slice of pizza and began to eat it.

"I'm sorry," Maeve said, subduing herself.

Otis shook his head. "It's okay."

They ate their pizza in silence for a few moments.

"You could ask your mum," Maeve said softly.

"After Christmas," Otis said. "After we come back. I don't want to ruin our holiday."

"Okay," Maeve said and settled into silence again before eventually asking, "So what do you want to do tonight?"

"I don't know," Otis said. "What do you want to do?"

"Play a game? Are you in the mood for Strip Queen?" Maeve asked.

"Anything else?"

"We could just listen to music," Maeve suggested.

"That sounds good."

"You can continue tutoring me on music history."

"Do you mind if we just listen?"

"If you want," Maeve murmured.

Otis sighed heavily. "Oh, I'm sorry I'm in a mood, Maeve."

Maeve hesitated for a moment then put down her pizza slice, licked her fingers, reached for the hem of her top and dragged it upwards, snagging her bra as her fingers passed it.

As she reached for her pizza slice, Otis looked up and gave a soft intake of breath at the sight of her breasts.

Maeve stared at him with a forced defiance that covered her nervousness, chewing silently.

"I thought you said you were going to take my photo if I kept on doing that," Otis smirked after he had recovered.

"I couldn't be bothered standing up," Maeve smirked, relaxing.

"It's not really a punishment, now," Otis said, flicking his eyes between her breasts and her face.

"Who said I was trying to punish you?" Maeve asked.

"Are you wanting me to…" He thought for a moment. "Exercise your squirrels?"

"You don't have to if you're not in the mood," Maeve said quietly. "But I wouldn't object if you are."

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Otis asked after a moment. "Maybe a bit of fresh air will clear my head."

Maeve glanced down at herself and asked, "Think I should stay like this?"

"It's up to you," Otis said with a smirk. "Exhibitionist Girl."

Maeve grinned at him and adjusted her bra with one hand until her breasts were covered then let her top drop down.

"The people living here don't deserve to see tits as good as these," she smirked.

Maeve and Otis reached the top of the rise overlooking the caravan park, arms around each other.

"It wasn't that bad today," Otis said. "No big breakthroughs but no having to force myself to say anything."

"But it was still good talking with her?" Maeve asked.

"Yeah, it was," Otis said. "But even if she's right and it wasn't my fault, I still feel—"

"You're not going to get over it just like that, are you?" Maeve asked.

"I suppose not," Otis said.

"What's that thing? Fake it till you make it? Pretend you really believe the divorce isn't your fault until you really believe it isn't your fault," Maeve suggested softly.

Otis nodded and then, after a moment, murmured, "Yeah." He squeezed her shoulder gently. "Thanks for not indulging me today."

"I know you said it's draining after you talk to Maria. I just thought… you didn't seem as down as the last couple of times," Maeve said. "I'd have stopped if I thought—"

"I know," Otis said tenderly.

They reached the dirt road leading past the caravan park and began walking along it.

"I talked to Jean a bit today," Maeve said, quietly. "That was a disaster."

"Why?" Otis asked, concerned.

"I started telling her about my sex life with Jackson—" She pressed her lips together, shook her head and continued. "Sorry, I know you said he's a part of our story and you know I've been trying but it really is starting to feel wrong talking to you about Jackson. Especially about the—"

Maeve pressed her lips together and forced herself to be silent.

"There's two things I can say to that," Otis said slowly.

"Hmmm?" Maeve hummed, not trusting herself to speak.

"One, fake it till you make it."

Maeve nudged her head against his shoulder, smiling to herself.

"And two, does this situation call for me undoing my zipper?"

Maeve giggled and leaned forward, glancing down.

"Go ahead, I won't object," she said.

"I don't mind if you talk to mum about…" Otis said. "I mean, you told Eric all about your sex life."

"That's different," Maeve said. "I was on my rags. And she's your mum."

"She won't judge and she won't break your trust, tell me something she shouldn't. I know that. Eric said he talked to her about coming out and I never had a clue until he told me."

"Yeah, he said," Maeve murmured.

"It's only me that she'll tell her Yoni Group about my first wet dream," Otis muttered.

Maeve looked up at him in shock. "What? Okay, no, not talking to Jean. Nuh-uh. She did… what… really…?"

"I sometimes think she forgets where she ends and I begin," Otis said.

"I really like Jean," Maeve said. "But sometimes, the things you tell me she's done…"

"She's getting better," Otis said. "She is. I'm noticing it."

They walked in silence for a while.

"If you want to talk to someone, she could help you find somebody," Otis eventually said. "If I'm remembering right, there's support for it so you won't have to pay."

"You said that sometimes it takes a while to find a therapist," Maeve said quietly.

"It can, but you could get lucky," Otis said. "I did."

They walked in silence for a few more moments.

"If I did talk to Jean, I wouldn't say anything about your stuff," Maeve said quietly. "I'd try not to say anything about our stuff. Just my stuff."

"I trust you, Maeve," Otis said quietly.

Maeve looked up at him, seeing him doing everything he could not to ask and she felt warmth flood through her.

"But I don't know now," she said. "Maybe I won't. I can't believe she told a bunch of strangers about you cumming in your sleep."

Maeve leaned against the railing of the bridge bisecting Moordale as Otis leaned against the railing opposite.

"We were just talking about music," Maeve said. "About where we could go dancing when we're up in London and I was just…"

Otis watched her silently as she struggled with her thoughts.

"I asked her if I could ask her a personal question and she said I could ask though she didn't promise to answer."

"Do you mind if I ask you what you asked her?" Otis asked quietly. "You don't have to answer."

"Did she feel different being with Jakob," Maeve said. "Like did she feel she was not the same person she was before she was with him."

"You don't have to tell me what she said," Otis reassured her.

"Nothing, really," Maeve said. "Just said it was new with Jakob. Probably meant she was still in the love haze and maybe I was just experiencing the love haze. But it feels more than that. She asked me if I felt different with Jackson and I told her that with Jackson it was mostly just all about the sex, that's what I first hooked up with him for… and that's when I realised what I said."

"She wouldn't have minded," Otis murmured.

"She's your mum," Maeve said. "It just felt wrong."

"I feel different loving you," Otis said after a moment. "I am different for loving you."

"But do you feel like a different person?" Maeve asked.

"No," Otis conceded quietly.

"I feel like a different person. It's not just that you make me feel safe because it's more than you. I mean, with Eric and his sisters. Even Lily... yesterday… I'm not recognising myself. I told Aimee I'm not recognising myself," Maeve said.

"What did she say?"

"She said I'm like I was when she first met me."

"Is she right?"

"It was so long ago," Maeve said quietly.

"So even if you are becoming a new person, is that a bad thing?" Otis asked. "Is the new person a person you don't want to be?"

"No," Maeve said, shaking her head.

"So why does it concern you?" Otis asked. "Sorry. I'm asking the sort of things Maria would ask me and we don't do therapizing."

Maeve smiled to herself. "Nah, we don't do therapizing. So what do you think?"

"I don't know," Otis said. "Maybe because you feel safe with us you're also feeling comfortable letting other people see who you really are. Who you were before you had to do whatever you could to protect yourself."

"I just never thought I was this soft."

"Of course you were soft," Otis said, smirking. "You slept with Kermit The Frog, remember?"

Maeve gave a small chuckle then said, "Oh, fuck it. I'm being stupid."

"You're not being stupid," Otis softly said.

Maeve looked around and said, wistfully, "We should have kissed here."

"Nothing stopping us now," Otis said after a moment.

"I'm not wearing your jumper," Maeve said.

"Does that matter?" Otis asked.

Maeve pushed herself off the railing and ambled seductively toward him.

"S'pose not," she purred and leaned against him, reaching her head up for a kiss.

Otis sat on the lounge in Maeve's caravan, Maeve curled against him as raucous music emerged from the speakers on his laptop as it sat on the table.

"Are you in the mood for expanding my musical knowledge now?" Maeve asked quietly.

"I don't know anything about them," Otis said.

"You haven't listened to them?"

"I heard one song," Otis said, grimacing and shaking his head. "I didn't like it. Didn't bother finding out anything more."

"Oh, well, you didn't have to play it," Maeve said.

"No, you wanted to hear them," Otis said.

"Did he just say vay-cunt?" Maeve asked, amused.

"I think so," Otis said.

"No wonder Jean's dad didn't like them."

"So what do you think of them?"

Maeve shrugged. "Not my cup of tea, either, Jean."

"I think you'll like the next one," Otis said. "You've probably heard the next one."

"What's the next one?"

"Wait till this one finishes," Otis said.

"So are you feeling better?" Maeve asked.

"Yeah, a little," Otis said. "More than a little. Thanks for letting me therapize you. Took me out of myself for a bit."

"Just don't get used to it," Maeve smirked.

"Promise, but…" Otis said. "Don't let me go back into myself. Treat this as if it's a normal night."

"You sure?" Maeve asked.

"Yeah," Otis said. "I don't want to go back into that mood."

"Okay," she quietly agreed then reacted as the song changed. "Oh, yeah, I know this one."

"This was directed at one of the other singers in the group," Otis said. "She wrote her own song directed at him and they put it on the B-side."

"What's a B-Side?"

"On the singles," Otis began. "One song would be considered the one that would sell. That'd get played on the radio. The A-Side. And the song on other side was the B-Side which they didn't think was as good as the A-Side."

"Oh," Maeve said.

"Sometimes both songs got played on the radio and that was a Double-A Side," Otis said. "Queen's We Will Rock You and We Are The Champions was a Double-A Side."

"'We will, we will fuck you, sing it again,'"Maeve sang. "'We will, we will fuck you.'"

"What?" Otis laughed.

"Me and Claire would sing it way back when," Maeve said, giggling. "I think before we even knew what fucking was. Mum would laugh when we'd do it."

"That sounds like something you would do now," Otis said. "See? Maybe Aimee's right."

"I should get her to sing it with me," Maeve said.

"Who would you sing it to?" Otis asked, amused.

"You and Steve, of course," Maeve said, rising from his shoulder and looking at him.

"Sounds like you'd be singing for us to have a foursome," Otis chuckled.

"We could if you want," Maeve said, airily. "Aimee would be up for it and Steve's a pushover."

"I would be singing you can go your own way," Otis said, firmly.

"Go on," Maeve nudged him. "Be adventurous."

"The only adventure I want to go on is with you," Otis said. "Not Aimee. Not Steve. Not—"

"Margot Robbie," Maeve interjected.

"Yeah," Otis agreed. "Not Margot Robbie."

"No, I meant you'd go on an adventure with me and Margot Robbie," Maeve smirked.

Otis leaned close to her ear and whispered, "No, I wouldn't."

"Not even in your dreams?" Maeve asked.

Otis paused a moment then said, "Dreams don't count."

"They certainly do," Maeve said.

The song changed and Otis latched onto it.

"There's two versions of this," Otis said. "I mean, they're different songs 'cause there's different lyrics but in other ways they're the same song. He started and ended the album with them."

"I really love when you share this stuff with me," Maeve said softly. "I just want you to know that I really do love it."

Otis looked at her curiously.

"Jean said her boyfriends would do this but I got the impression she thought they were wankers," Maeve said. "But I really do love your enthusiasm when you're explaining."

"We need to start re-reading The Bell Jar together so you can explain it to me."

"After we come back," Maeve said, snuggling against him again. "So, there's two versions…?" she murmured.

"One acoustic, one electric," Otis said. "This one's the electric."

"Is that why there's electric guitars on it?" Maeve smirked.

"Sorry," Otis said. "Maybe mum's right."

"Pop my boobs out, will ya?" Maeve said. "I'm too cozy to do it myself."

"So…," Otis began, smiling softly to himself. "If you were with someone who would do it, would you do it? Have a foursome with someone?"

"Nup," Maeve said firmly without hesitation. "I told you, I'm vanilla."

"And I told you, you're Maeve."

Maeve was silent for a moment then asked, "If you really are feeling in a better mood…"

"I am," Otis said.

"D'ya wanna continue on from where we were before we were so rudely interrupted?" She inclined her head toward him. "You don't have to."

Otis looked down at her, puzzled until he finally realised.

"I could do that," he said after a moment. "I am a little thirsty."

Maeve rose from his shoulder again and looked gratefully at him. "I'll need a shower first."

"I should have one, too," Otis said.

"You first," Maeve said. "Just don't use all of the hot water."

Maeve cracked open the door of the bathroom and called, "Where are you, muppet?"

"In the loungeroom," Otis called back.

"What are you doing?"

"Playing Angry Birds."

"Okay, I'll be there in a sec," Maeve said and glanced at herself in the mirror.

She fluffed her dress a little, opened the door and stepped into the hallway separating the two sections of the caravan. Slowly, she walked toward the lounge area and stopped in the doorway leading to the kitchen, gazing tenderly at Otis sitting on the lounge in his boxers as he played on his phone.

"I'm ready," she said, softly.

Otis looked up and his breathing stopped as he stared at an almost demure Maeve standing in the doorway wearing the dress she had worn to the school dance.

"You're so gorgeous," he eventually exhaled.

Maeve smiled almost shyly. "Thank you."

Otis looked down at his boxers and grimaced. "I should have been… I should be dressed up like—"

"I like you like that," Maeve said, shaking her head.

"Can… can I take a photo?" Otis asked, hopeful.

"Uh-huh," Maeve said, biting her lip.

"A few photos," he breathed.

Otis rose to his feet and as he prepared his phone to take her picture, Maeve could feel warmth flooding through her as a bulge appeared in his boxers.

Otis took a photo and Maeve shifted position, smiling sultrily at him.

He took another photo and Maeve half-turned, looking back over her shoulder.

Otis took another photo and Maeve relaxed, turning to face him.

"Do you think they're okay?" she asked. "You didn't shake?"

Otis checked the photos and shook his head. "No, they're good."

"Take him out," Maeve murmured.

Otis looked up at her, confused.

Maeve glanced down at his boxers, nodding her head before looking back up into his eyes to be sure he understood. "Only if you want to," she murmured, hoping.

Otis glanced down at himself and smiled, reaching down with one hand to pull himself out through the opening of his boxers.

He watched Maeve as she studied him pointing toward her.

"Does that mean your mood has improved?" she asked.

"Yes," Otis murmured.

"Take a photo," she breathed. "If you want to," she quickly amended. "You don't have to."

Otis looked at her for a moment then began pondering the best angle.

"Straight down," Maeve said.

Otis glanced at her then pointed his phone straight down, sucked in his gut and took a photo of himself sticking out of his boxers.

"Send it to me," Maeve said with a soft plea in her voice.

Otis looked at her, slightly uncertain and she murmured, "You don't have to."

After a moment, Otis began fumbling with his phone.

"Just make sure you send it to me," Maeve said quickly, suddenly anxious. "Just me. Nobody else. Make sure you double-check the name before you send it."

Otis stopped and held out his phone to her. "Do you want to do it? Maybe you should do it."

Maeve hesitated for a moment then shook her head. "No, you do it, but just be careful."

Otis nodded then slowly began fiddling with his phone again as Maeve nervously watched.

Eventually, he finished fumbling and looked up at her queryingly.

After a moment, she nodded and Otis pressed send.

Both of them held their breath until they heard the distant chime of Maeve's phone from the bedroom.

"God," Maeve laughed, relaxing.

"I was so sure I fucked that up," Otis panted.

"Imagine if you had sent it to your mum," Maeve said.

"Or Aimee," Otis said.

"You'd just make her jealous of me," Maeve said, shaking her head. "But sending a dick pic to your mum? I'd have to break up with you. I could never face her again."

Otis leaned over to place his phone on the table but stopped as Maeve said, "No, no. Bring it."

As Otis walked over to her, curious, she said, "One more photo. Promise."

"What photo?" he asked.

Maeve glanced down at him still pointing at her unwaveringly. "Can I hold you?"

"Yes," Otis whispered and hitched a breath as Maeve's hand wrapped around him and she stepped forward and trapped her hand and his cock between their bodies as she kissed him and slowly stroked him.

"I'm not going to trust Jawbreaker because he has a one-track mind," Maeve said when the kiss was finished. "Are you sure you're in the mood for this?"

"Yes," Otis said. "I think this—" He glanced down. "— I think this is something I need. I can't always be gloom and doom after Maria. I need to integrate sessions with her into the rest of my life. I need to be able to see her and then come here and do this if you want to do this. Or other things. Non-this things."

"So do you want to go into the bedroom?" Maeve asked softly.

"Yes," Otis whispered.

"Would you like to live a dream?"

Author's Notes: I can only repeat that I am truly sorry.

I have finally got some structure for the next few days until Christmas and the day they finally 'go all the way'. I know. Spoiler, but it is foreshadowed in this chapter and people have been asking.

I hope you manage to find enjoyment in this chapter and I will be continuing to write this story. It is never very far from my thoughts.

If I've contradicted myself with anything, please let me know. I re-read it before writing this chapter but I can't seem to keep track of every beat.

I still can't promise when the next chapter will arrive.