Title: Above The Moon
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6.3k
Summary: She really is here. Brittany is here, and you think over the past 10 years without her, trying to figure out how destiny didn't bring you back together sooner, but you guess it just wasn't the right time.
Notes: Thank you for your feedback!
/
Thankfully, Brittany and her friend ditch the two guys when they get a little handsy, and you were glad that they stood up to them before you had to get involved, because that would've been a weird thing to do and explain, and then they came back over to join you and your friends.
Rachel comes too, after breezing through the doors with sunglasses on – despite it being dark outside – and gasps when she sees all of you like she wasn't expecting to, even though she just text you to say she was close, and makes a big fuss just to draw attention to her which doesn't go the way she planned.
Not a single person – bar your friends – know who she is. The people that drink here aren't exactly Broadway fans, but it makes all of you laugh and opens up the opportunity to rip into her which makes Brittany laugh and her friend, so that's cool.
But anyway, you're a few drinks in and everyone's gelling really well. You're enjoying it as it feels different, but good, as it isn't making you feel so pressured that your ex is sitting across from you, and when the bartender brings over the next round, Rachel announces that she wants to do a performance. You point out that there's no stage, or microphone, but she whips out of a sparkly gold one from her purse and says she's always prepared, regardless.
Everyone being a bit drunk means that everyone thinks it's a good idea, and Mercedes insists she joins in, Kurt does too and so does Blaine, and then you're left at the table. But then Mercedes sees Brittany's friend – Kitty – hold back, and obviously sensing that you and Brittany could have alone time, decides to take her with her. Kitty doesn't protest, but shoots Brittany a look as if she's asking if it's okay, and you're glad when Brittany nods her head with a smile, like she wants to be alone with you, too.
(You ignore the way your stomach flips.)
All your friends disappear to the other side of the bar and begin creating a ruckus when Rachel belts out the first few lines of Don't Rain On My Parade and you laugh, shaking your head as you glance back to the blonde opposite you who's already staring right back.
"It's been a while," she says, breaking the silence and you exhale, laughing again but for a different reason this time.
"Yeah," you agree and bob your head, staring down at your drink because you can't look at her too long without getting entirely distracted by the colour of her eyes. "How did you even wind up here anyway?" You ask a little breathlessly, moving your vision back to her but the question sounds a lot like another one, along the lines of why did it take so long for fate to intervene and bring you back together.
Brittany tilts her head to the side, eyes squinting like she's reading you and knows the words that weren't said, but answers anyway. "As you know, my family moved to Michigan," she starts, and you put all your energy into not flinching at the memory of saying goodbye that flashes inside your mind. She doesn't linger for long though, probably on purpose. "We lived there for a year before my dad got relocated to Winnipeg where we stayed until I graduated," she continues and you grin when she pauses, looks up to the ceiling and smiles like she's remembering the time. "Canada is so beautiful," she comments, and you can't help but grin, thinking about how you two talked about going to Canada for one summer, even if that never happened.
(You're kind of hoping she's thinking about it too.)
"But they wanted to move to live by the ocean and my dad got headhunted by someone in Florida," she breathes out, crossing her arms across the table and leaning forward again. "I'd graduated, so I decided to take a year to decide what I wanted to do and just started travelling," she shrugs, and you can just imagine Brittany in Miami or something by the beach, but she didn't choose that life.
"I started in Dakota, worked my way down to Texas where I got picked up by a dance crew," she explains, and your brows shoot up. You can see her in fitting in with anybody because she's just that type of person. Fits in anywhere and with anyone. "They travelled everywhere," her voice is breathy, and you can see the passion as she talks about it in her eyes. "I did that for like… three years?" Her face scrunches up and she lets out a long sigh. You do, too, but mostly because of how pretty she is, but then you notice the way her shoulders stiffen, features harden, and you cock your head to the side. "Typically, I fell for some guy… Quit the dance crew and moved with him to San Francisco," she chuckles out mirthlessly, and your fist curls as you think that maybe that guy treat her badly. "That ended though and I came down to California and have been here ever since."
You don't know the exact timeline, but you're both the same age and you know now from Mercedes that she went on tour with her, and that was years ago now. Your paths were so close but weren't destined to meet until right now and you find yourself smiling. You could do with a friend like Brittany back in your life. As much as you love yourself and all that other crap, you know that she brought out a softer side to you and you could do with being tamed a little.
"How long has that been? That you've been in LA?" You ask, needing to know how you could be in the same city and not run into each other.
Brittany holds your eye, and sucks in her bottom lip as it curves into a small smile, like she knows why you're asking. Blood rushes to your cheeks, but she answers and doesn't point it out. "About a year, this time round," she says and grins a little. "Bought my own apartment in Brentwood," she waggles her eyebrows, and it's so strange to see her so grown up.
You remember the teenage version of her, hilarious but slightly irresponsible and now she's travelled the US, joined a dance crew, had her heart broken by the sounds of it, and is now settling down. You can't help but feel the pride bloom in your chest because she's lived an entire life, and she doesn't live that far away from you either, which is cool. That means you might see her more often.
"So looks like I won't be going anywhere for a while," she adds on through a chuckle and takes a sip of her drink, settling back into the booth and staring at you, biting her lip again. "What about you? How did you end up here?"
You think about your past, and instantly compare it to the one you've just heard and it's not nearly as impressive. Sure, you've lived a whole life since you saw her last, but you've done it in a different kind of way; very career focused, never looking for love and you've done well for yourself. It's not like you regret it because like you said before, you love your life, but you're kind of ashamed to admit the path it took when you've just heard one like hers.
"I lived in Lima until I was 18," you start and smile at her as she grins, obviously finding that adorable which makes your cheeks warm up again. "Shut up," you hiss, but it's playful and she sticks her tongue out at you. "I moved here to go to Cali State, then when I finished up there I started as an intern, getting coffees and sandwiches and worked my way up," you get out, in one long sentence but Brittany's right there, nodding her head along with you as encouragement.
You think she knows you're hesitant about talking about your life, mostly because you're shifting awkwardly in your seat, and she'd be right. Other than your career, the only thing you've achieved is bedding a lot of women and that's not really something you want to tell her, even if she delved into her own side by mentioning the guy back in San Francisco. You haven't had a girlfriend, so you guess you're not lying by avoiding discussing that part.
She only talked about serious relationships, not hook ups, so it's okay to leave it out and you can just focus on the family part as that's where she started out.
"My parents still live in Ohio," you groan, rolling your eyes because they are such small town people it's hilarious. Brittany's parents were always carefree and wild, and your parents shacked up when they were 16, had you when they were 21 and bought a house and stayed there. You love them, but sometimes you wish you could give them something to be proud of that would pull them out of their small town shells. "But my dad still has his Mustang," you laugh out and Brittany joins in.
But then your mind, for like the tenth time this evening, reels back to memories shared and you meet blue eyes, watching hers do the same thing.
/
You had just passed your drivers exam.
Your parents hadn't been too forthcoming with buying you your own car, which you couldn't really blame them for as your parents weren't exactly wealthy, but your dad said you could use his car once in a while and seeing as he had that thing since he was a teenager, you thought if you showed him how much care you'd take of his four-wheeled baby, then he might gift it to you. It was a Mustang too, so you loved the way you looked in it and it made your badass reputation increase as it was black and had a white stripe down the middle.
Anyway, you made a point of picking Brittany up from Cheerio practise after school the first time your dad gave you the keys. You two had made out, and done some over the shirt touching, but you hadn't talked about labels even though everyone else thought you were together. You just sort of assumed you were, but she was the first girl in that school you'd told about your situation, and she said she was eager to see what that was like, but you had to take it slow.
You were only 15 after all so sex was a daunting prospect; mostly because of the teenage pregnancy story that shot through the school halls.
Brittany came sweeping out from the field, looking effortlessly beautiful despite just spending the last hour doing wind sprints and tumbles, and she grinned at you as she eyed the car, her mouth wide and face shocked the closer she got. Her friends began pointing and giggling even though they were obviously jealous, and you didn't like any of them, but you still lifted your hand and waved, mustering the fakest smile you could as the other cheer-bitches parted ways and left your blonde to wander over by herself.
"Hey," she greeted, sliding into the car, and scanning the surroundings, marvelling in the soft leather and polished chrome. "How are you driving this?" She asked slowly, turning her attention to you, and twisting up her features with disapproval. "You didn't steal the keys did you? Because you know your dad's gonna be pissed if you did."
You let out a short laugh and leaned over, grabbing her chin until she smiled and kissed you. You let it linger, relief flushing through you, and you could feel the nerves setting in as you wanted to take her somewhere in this ride so you could talk about you two. Things were going well, and you wanted to know where you were as you'd heard a rumour that one of the ice hockey jocks wanted to ask her out.
Still, you didn't let it show and pulled back, staring deeply into her eyes. "No… My dad said I could borrow it sometimes."
Brittany grinned and kissed you again quickly before reaching for her seatbelt and clicking it into place, legs kicking up on the dashboard. "Even if you're lying, I don't care… So let's go somewhere cool," she beamed and threw her arm over the back of your seat, fingers toying with the short hairs at the back of your neck. The motion made you shudder, and you bit your lip as you flicked on the engine, trying to smile at her without her noticing you already thought of somewhere to go.
She didn't seem to vocalise it if she did, and you peeled out of the parking lot without another word.
/
You don't stop staring into her eyes until you hear a loud applause come from around the bar, only looking away to find the source being your drunken, rowdy friends.
You manage a laugh, before turning back to find blue eyes still on you and your breath hitches in your throat. She obviously didn't look away and you wonder if she's lost in another memory of you two and the Mustang, but then she's shaking out of it and spying her glass, chuckling quietly. You don't push her for an answer to your question, and she barely even gives you a second to think of how to phrase it if you did before she's sliding around the booth until she's next to you, reaching over to grab an empty shot glass on the table and placing it in front of her.
The next question bubbles up your throat, but then she's fishing a quarter out of her pocket and balancing it on the edge of the table, and if it was anyone else, you'd ask them what the fuck they're doing but she always used to do random stuff like this. Although it seems you get an answer to your earlier question as to where she went inside her head when she was smiling at you by talking about something that refreshes another memory of your dad.
"You know," she starts and flicks the quarter up with a quick motion, it teetering on the lip of the glass but falling off and a scowl appears across her face. "I always wanted to know how your dad did the quarter flick trick."
She's talking about how you used to spend the evenings where she came over after school and after dinner, trying to get a coin into various cups that you'd drunk from with your parents, and she never could manage to do it, but you can. Back then, you used to playfully tease her, and she ended up getting moody with you until you dragged her upstairs and wiped the frown from her face by kissing her.
Somehow, you don't think that'll be appropriate here, so instead you put your energy into warming at the memory and how she's so wonderfully weird. It's refreshing, mostly because all your friends are adults, but she always manages to keep that kid side to her, still retaining an adult side of her somehow. She did tell you she's got her own apartment now, but as you admire her trying to flick the quarter into the shot glass, all you can see is the teenager inside. It's like she never really grew up, and you kind of love that.
So, you decide you're going to entertain her. Even if all your friends come back over and wonder what the hell you're doing because this is so not you, you don't really care because it's been a while since you spent time with her like this, and you think you could possibly be friends if you can be around each other in this capacity.
"Okay," you say and lean forward, bumping your shoulder against hers as you shuffle a little closer to join in with her. "I'll show you one more time, alright?"
Brittany's eyes slide to the side, and she grins. You just laugh.
/
You decided that Indian Lake State Park was the perfect place to talk to Brittany.
It wasn't some corny hook-up point, and it was only half hour away from your house so your dad wouldn't yell at you for draining all the gas out the car. Brittany didn't catch on to where you were going until you drove through some trees and pulled into a parking space that was beside a shore. The sun was just setting over the horizon, the light reflecting against the water, and you flicked off the engine, climbing out and telling Brittany to stay there as you headed towards the boot to grab a blanket.
You opened her door for her with it tucked beneath your arm, and she fluttered her eyelashes, a blush forming across her cheeks as she clambered out and you took her hand as you moved to the front of the car. You only dropped it to pluck the blanket out from your grasp and open it, waving it up in the air before you laid it across the bonnet of the car and then grinned at her, sweeping your arm across to gesture her to hop up there.
You grabbed her hips to help with the movement, and she kissed you in silent thanks before you climbed up beside her, side pressed into hers and linked your pinkies together in the small space between your thighs. She bumped you gently, until you glanced at her, and you could see the question of why you came here specifically, as you'd kind of turned it into an impromptu date and it wasn't Friday either, which was the normal date night.
And that's when you started getting nervous. You could feel the heat crawling up your spine and you let out a shaky breath, squeezing her finger a little harder before you spoke. "I wanted to talk to you about something," you exhaled, unable to hide the wavering of your tone.
Brittany just leaned closer and brought her other hand over, squeezing the back of your linked ones in a comforting manner. "What's that?"
You could hear the panic in her voice and snapped your eyes up, instantly shaking your head because the start of that was a standard way of breaking up with someone. Not that you'd break up with her ever, as you always wanted her to be your… Whatever she was, and even if you did, the State Park would've been a weird place to do it. It was romantic as hell, and you thought that was obvious.
"No, no," you confirmed, letting out an awkward chuckle and putting your hand over the back of hers, like she did with you. "Not that," you tilted your head down and she breathed out a sigh of relief. "The opposite, actually."
Brittany cocked her head to the side, an adorable furrow forming between her eyebrows, and you couldn't help but smile. She was so damn cute. "I don't know what you mean," she stated, her voice slow but you knew it was because you were nervous and stuttering over what to say.
You'd never done that before, asking a girl to be your girlfriend and it was all sorts of nerve-wracking as that also meant something else. That's what kids your age were doing those days and it was natural progression when the relationship became official.
"I heard that Rick was going to ask you out and I didn't know what you'd say," you blurted out, watching the confusion in her face grow. You were totally fucking it up. "Only because like, I thought we were together but then I realised we hadn't actually said it and I know loads of people already think it, but I just wanted–" You hurried out as quickly as possible, not even pausing for a breath and finding your chest rising and falling harder and harder. You knew you were rambling, but the blonde just kept grinning at you, brows shooting up to her hairline like she waiting for you to be done. "… To check."
And then you thought you were going to have a panic attack.
Brittany saw it though, and obviously picked up on what you were really trying to say because she understood you in a way that no-one else did. She saw that when you spat venom, it was usually out of natural defence as most people were assholes, and she knew you kept your guard up. Talking about feelings was never a strength of yours, or even acknowledging them was a rarity, but you couldn't deny how you felt towards the girl.
She just made you feel complete.
"San," she whispered, and you swallowed against a thickened throat, hoping she couldn't feel how clammy your palms were getting. Still, you looked into her eyes and sucked in a gasp when you saw her smiling at you like you were a total idiot, but her idiot. "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"
See, it was shit like that that first drew you to her. She seemed to be able to read your emotions before you even felt them, and picked up on what was behind your words and damn, in that moment it was the best thing that could've happened. Had she not known you so well, she could've misheard what you said, maybe even slapped you if she took it the wrong way, but she didn't and you felt your chest release as you began nodding, also thankful for her saying it because you don't think you could. You were balls out terrified.
"Yeah," you quickly threw in, now aggressively nodding and Brittany began laughing, shaking her head but looking at you like you were the reason for her existence, but you totally got that. She was the reason for yours. "Yeah, I want you to be," you shrugged because even though you were like, pretty sure you were already there, there was a slight flash of doubt inside. "If you want to be."
Brittany grinned at you widely, joining in with the aggressive nodding and realising how ridiculous she looked, you realised you probably looked the same but then she was surging forward, pulling her hands out of yours and grabbing the back of your neck until you were kissing. She deepened it immediately, all your thoughts zoning into nothing other than the girl in your arms and she smiled against your mouth, only pulling back to whisper against yours.
"Yes, I want to be your girlfriend… Yes, a thousand times."
An explosion of fireworks went off inside your chest and all nerves seeped away as she stole the next breath you tried to take with her lips against yours.
Brittany was your girlfriend.
/
After around five performances from your friends, with the unimpressed locals joining in after being dragged to their feet, you all decide it's time to head home.
Rachel fell off the stage after her rendition of My Heart Will Go On and Kurt caught her, dragging her out with Blaine the other side of her limp body, shouting goodbye to everyone and saying he'll take her home in her town car. You wave at him and glance back at Mercedes, who checks her phone and rolls her eyes when it goes off several times, and she deposits it back in her purse before throwing her jacket on and you know that means it's time to go.
You don't want to though. Just before Rachel decided to fall over, you and Brittany were still going at the empty shot glass with a quarter, and you'd been in this weird little bubble that felt so fantastically nostalgic for like, an hour and you wanted to stay there forever. But obviously the ruckus had disturbed you, and Kitty's now come over and asked Brittany if they can leave as the two guys from earlier are trying to catch her attention and asking to buy an apology drink for the both of them.
You could just punch them in the throat, but you know Brittany doesn't approve of that and so you grab your own jacket and all four of you head outside into the street, Mercedes waving down the first cab that comes into view, smirking at the douchebags as you leave with everyone.
The wind is chilly, so you pull the lapels up and bury your chin behind them, glancing to find Brittany wrap her arms around herself and the urge to wrap your arm around her instead burns strong, but you hold back on it.
If you try, you two could claw back at a friendship and it'll be strange, but you'd like that. You should just probably not touch her so much because she's like, really fucking attractive and you're more aware of it now than ever before.
(You've met hundreds and hundreds of people now, and she's still the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.)
The cab pulls up and Mercedes opens the door and you all clamber in, your friend telling the driver her address first and then asking for Kitty's, which shocks you, but when she flashes you a subtle wink, you get why. She's giving you an opportunity to be alone with Brittany again and half of you wants to snap at her for being so damn obvious, but the other half is kind of grateful for her existence. Maybe she can see the side Brittany's brings out in you.
Anyway, it's only a couple minutes before the car is stopping and Mercedes pokes some dollar bills through the hole before saying her goodbyes – with a grin thrown your way – and hopping out, then the driver is heading off again and you all make small talk. Kitty chats about how incredible the choreography is that Brittany came up with, but then she does a total 180 and you start thinking she's kind of a bitch when she says she could totally do it too – no-one can move like Brittany – but you bite your tongue as you know that you're not far from your own apartment, and the journey will soon come to an end.
Plus, you're trying to show you're not as much as a bitch as you used to be to Brittany. You've changed, too.
Turns out, Kitty only lives a couple blocks from your place, and she politely smiles at you and kisses Brittany on the cheek when the cab stops again, the driver saying that the 'first lady that left the cab paid for the trip' and you make a mental note to thank Mercedes. But then your thoughts are swiftly interrupted when the door slams shut, and the driver waits for another address to be given but Brittany's staying silent, and you wonder if you're supposed to tell him yours.
But then she leans over and whispers something you can't make out, and the car begins moving again. You don't know where you're going, but you're okay with it because you trust Brittany and you're almost 100% sure she isn't a serial killer now. She gives out huge Golden Retriever energy, even after all this time and it's freaking adorable.
"So," Brittany coughs, choosing to start the conversation and you turn your head to look at her on the opposite side of the back seat. Her body is now twisted to face yours, one leg tucked up beneath the other and you frown, but do the same, knowing you two used to do shit like this all the time. Some habits never die. "You didn't mention anything about dating when you told me about where you've been all these years," she starts.
And it's so not what you were expecting that for about ten seconds, you don't reply. You kind of hoped she hadn't picked up on that as you don't really want to admit that you're kind of a hoe, but you also know she's someone who doesn't slut-shame people as she was always very sexually active with you when you were younger and probably continued being that way after your relationship, so if you did tell her, you don't think there'd be an issue.
There's also another reason... You're also kind not wanting to think about how many people she's slept with and if it even comes close to your number, you don't know how you'd feel about that, so you choose to stay safe in your answer and get clarity before you reveal that.
"What do you mean?"
"When I asked you earlier about what's happened in your life to get you here," she explains, her eyes holding yours and squinting slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You didn't mention anything about relationships even when I told you about my ex in San Francisco," she pauses and sucks in her bottom lip, eyes flitting around your face now. "So, are you dating anyone?"
You shake your head again because it's another safe answer, but she just squints further and begins grinning so you know you have to give her a bit more than that. "No, I'm not really the relationship type but…" You pause and glance away from her eye, gulping loudly. "I've been around."
She bobs her head, apparently not being put off by your answer and you can't help but pause at it. You don't know if that's a good or a bad thing, but after a couple of seconds, you see her tilt her head to the side, and she begins studying you again and you think it's a good response. You haven't exactly admitted that your number is way too high considering the amount of years you've been sexually active, but she doesn't seem to care, and it throws you off.
You don't think you'd be okay with hearing she had the same number, even if that'd be totally hypocritical. Not for slut-shaming reasons, but just because you don't want to think of how many people have touched her like that.
"Me either…" She finally replies and bites her bottom lip, narrowing her eyes further. "But me too," she adds on, and your eyes snap up, getting what she's saying instantly.
You don't think you're the only one that likes sex and not relationships.
"Yeah?"
Brittany nods gently, and you know her well enough to know that means she's not judging, and that she's the same as you – no long term relationships, just hook ups (bar that one guy she mentioned) – but you're still unsure where this conversation is going. You're still feeling uneasy and shift in your seat, crossing one leg over the other and glancing away out the window quickly, watching the street blur by as heat begins crawling up your spine. You need to chill. This is just friendly conversation.
Or so you thought, but when you hear the next question, your wealth of experience kicks in and you're suddenly aware that no… It's not just a friendly conversation. It's a leading one.
"So, do you wanna come back to mine for a coffee?"
Again, your eyes snap back to her and you feel the breath you try to take lodge in your throat when you register her expression. She's still got her head tilted, but she's smirking, and you really don't want to be misreading this, but you just don't think you are. Having been around the block a couple times, it's been easy for you to pick up on signs of seduction and attraction, and several of them are staring back at you but surely not…
Surely she isn't thinking what you're thinking because you two have just seen each other again for the first time in over ten years and you really didn't think that sex was part of that reunion.
Not that you'd say no or anything, as shit, you're only human, but you can't help but hesitate because this is Brittany. This is your first girlfriend. This is the first girl you ever loved. This is the girl that took your virginity and sure, you've learned a lot since you two last slept together, but you thought you were heading down a platonic route as sleeping together – even if you're adults and sex doesn't mean feelings now – would be dangerous. You thought tonight was nostalgic and effortless and friendly, but with the way she's looking at you, you're seriously starting to doubt your judgement of the entire night.
So, in complete fear that you're overstepping the mark by accepting as she really might mean a coffee, you have to ask. "A coffee?"
The smirk on Brittany's face turns into a smile, and she bobs her head slowly. "Yeah, like with milk and sugar," she elaborates, and you laugh through your nose, but she's just so freaking confusing. Is she really talking about coffee? Or is she hitting on you?
"I take mine black," you choose to respond, just in case she isn't suggesting what you think, and she scrunches her face up, bright eyes sparkling, and she shakes her head, scooting over towards you, one hand going to the hand you have on your thigh and the other leaning against the headrest, her fingers toying with dark locks. You would laugh too, but now she's way too close for you to think about anything other than how good she fucking smells and it's really distracting, even more so when she lowers her head and whispers in your ear, a heat scorching across your entire body.
God. You're getting turned on already.
"You know I'm not actually inviting you back for coffee, right?"
Yup. You were right. She wasn't talking about coffee and your head turns, breath catching when she doesn't move with the motion and then your faces are a few inches away from each other, her breath coating the lower half of your jaw. Tonight hasn't gone the way you planned at all, from her turning up in the first place to teaching her how to do the quarter flick trick, and so you've been thrown pillar to post and left in a state of confusion because bar right now, you haven't picked up on any signs that she was interested in you like that still.
Which, really, is ridiculous, because if anything, you're ten times hotter than you used to be in high school and even unexperienced, you two had the most incredible sex, but you just weren't expecting it.
Still, you're a red-blooded women, who needs something warm beneath her to digest her food – like a lizard – and you'd be lying to yourself if you said that you weren't slightly curious about that.
Ten years ago, you lost your virginities to each other and in some ways, you feel like you owe it to the God of sex to show how good you are now, and how good you could be with Brittany now you're both experienced, but it just feels like it's too good to be true and you're not being the confident, sexually alluring queen that you usually are in situations like this.
So, you force yourself to stutter out a confirmation request, just to make sure that you're totally not misreading this. "You want me to come back to yours?"
Brittany grins, and it steals the next breath you try to take as the hand playing with your hair moves to your neck, a single digit stroking down the muscle there. "If you wanna," she shrugs. "I mean… I make really good coffee now."
You think your heart stops as you process her words, but then she's grinning and the cab is slowing to a stop outside an unfamiliar apartment block, but you've lived in LA for a couple years now, so you know most of the streets and you think this is Brentwood.
You're outside her apartment and you want to tease her for being so presumptuous as she obviously told her the driver her address earlier, but then she's sliding out and leaving the door open as she fucking struts up to her stoop, pausing to throw you a wink over her shoulder and heat scorches across your body again.
And well… it'd be rude to say no.
/