Chapter Eight

Katie looked at Wil behind the wheel of the Bronco and ate another chocolate-covered almond from the giant plastic container they had purchased at Costco.

Wil was quiet. Even while they had giggled their way through Costco, she kept retreating to her thoughts. Now they were sitting in the parking lot. No plan yet. No conversation happening.

Katie liked it, actually. Not very many people she regularly spent time with were thoughtful. Intelligent, definitely. Gifted, yes. But her work attracted the kind of people who processed their feelings outside of their minds and their bodies, which included Katie.

She loved how it felt to be near Wil when she was obviously working on something. Her awareness of Katie would surface with her attention for just a few moments because she'd registered something funny Katie had said, or because Katie had deliberately bid for Wil's attention, and then Wil would slide back into herself, her energy curling around some piece of brain grit she was obviously trying to make smooth.

Katie ate a few more almonds, a little bit drunk with anticipation, maybe, waiting for the next time she would get to be Wil's object of contemplation.

"Sorry," Wil suddenly said, her fingers finally curling around a handful of Chicago-style popcorn and pulling it from the bag. "I wandered off there."

"Tell me about your meeting. Don't leave anything out. Especially your feelings."

Wil laughed. "See, if you hadn't said that, I would've told you about the meeting as briefly as possible. Or I would've told you about the secret power dynamics, which were pretty fucking intense, actually. But you want to know especially about my feelings, which is the version of my meeting I'm least likely to tell anyone about, ever."

Katie pushed her hands beneath her own thighs. Wil hadn't worn work slacks with her blue sweater. She'd worn dark jeans, the heavy denim tight over her long legs. Katie was dead of Wil's jeans. "Obviously, this is why I asked."

"Obviously." Wil ate some popcorn. "I'm pretty sure the reason I haven't gone to law school is because I knew I'd end up making decisions that felt disloyal to my dad. I could already feel that whatever was going to happen next in my life, it wouldn't be what I'd told him it would. I knew my dreams were going to change, but he's not here anymore to tell me what he thinks of my new dreams. He's not here to say it's okay to be the kind of lawyer I want to be, not the kind of lawyer he would've wanted me to be. So I stayed put."

Wil spoke slowly, taking long breaks to stare out the window, making Katie want nothing more than to gather her up in her arms and pet her hair and the sides of her neck. She told Katie this devastating thing the way she'd always told Katie things when she'd thought about them as much as she needed to, tumbling them over and around inside her head until her thoughts were polished and smooth, perfectly synthesized, and true.

"Tell me more about that," Katie said.

And Wil did. She talked for a long time about the years she'd spent in Green Bay with Beanie, about burying Jasper Greene and learning how to live without him, and about being a daughter and a friend to her mother through the worst of their grief.

What Katie understood when Wil was done was that the stakes of their bet were higher than Katie had thought, because Wil needed, badly, a push. Not into being fully an adult—Wil was already gloriously adult—but a push that would catapult Wil into stomping around in motorcycle boots and doing a montage of hot lawyer things in the Gotham City of her dreams while judges and other lawyers didn't know if they wanted to fuck her or be her.

Also, Katie had to very firmly cover the little light that came on in her heart as Wil listed the names of the schools she'd discussed with the power lawyers, as three of them were in Los Angeles.

"I can see why you avoided that meeting," she said. "I think if I knew there were four strangers at Kettle's who could easily assist me in attaining my heart's secret desire, I'd avoid the fuck out of them, too."

"Yeeeeah." Wil exhaled. "A time-out, if you would."

"Poor baby." Katie leaned over and quick-kissed Wil's cheek. Like a friend. Like they had when they were girls. The kiss landed between Katie's legs in a way that surprised her. "We can discuss the investigation."

Wil crinkled her nose in such a familiar way, it made Katie's heart ache. "I'm not sure we have an investigation. I did manage to dig up an address from a cached PTO newsletter from 2013."

"So let's do a drive-by and then work on my script. My mom is making cabbage rolls for dinner."

Wil started the truck, laughing. "I know. Beanie asked me to bring two home for her with mashed potatoes."

"Our mothers know everything. My mom asked me what we were doing today."

Wil stopped at a light. "Did you have to divulge the details of our investigation?"

"She meant ‘what are we doing?'"

"Ohhh." Wil thumbed the gearshift. Katie was pretty sure Wil was blushing. Katie was blushing, too.

"Beanie hasn't asked you?"

"Beanie's been telling me to ‘stop by and visit' since the party. But not asking anything."

"At least Beanie trusts me," Katie said, mostly to see Wil's reaction.

She watched Wil process, the streetlights confirming a blush actually bleeding into her lip line, making Wil's lush mouth look very seriously and painfully delicious. "What did you tell your mom?"

"I told her a lot of things. She reminded me that my life is complicated for other people, and she told me Beanie's been worried about you for years. That's Diana making sure I don't impulsively fling myself at your hotness and then Justin Bieber you for the paparazzi with your dingle dongle out for the long lens to capture for the press."

"Whha-at?" Wil downshifted but slipped the gear a little.

Katie laughed. "That's unfair. It was a serious conversation. It made me afraid, actually, because my life isn't easy. Not for me, not if someone else was in it who didn't have to be. I've come of age in front of the world, which is horrible. I genuinely worry if my brain has developed properly."

Wil looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Your brain is solid, Katie. You don't have anything to worry about there."

"Sure, okay, but she talked about what you've been through lately, and she told on you about your testing." Katie held her breath, not sure if she should have said that, except that she felt like Wil had given her an opening when she told her about what her dad had wanted for her and why it meant Wil hadn't moved on.

Mostly, the more time she spent with Wil, which was barely any so far, the more she mourned all the time in the last thirteen years they hadn't spent together. It was a little scary, since their tacit agreement seemed to be to spend as much time together as was possible while Katie was here, and Katie wasn't sure how many more feelings she could feel about Wil without exploding.

Or how she was going to go back to LA without her heart in a very pulpy and raw condition.

"Right," Wil said. Katie watched her swallow.

She waited, but Wil didn't say anything more. It made her heart squeeze to think about Wil being worried for so many years, and that made her reckless enough to say, "Also, I told her that when I was eighteen, that spring, I was in love with you."

Wil did slip the gear then, in the middle of a roundabout, and tried to restart the Bronco's engine, which was running, so the truck stalled. "Fuck." Wil frantically waggled the gearshift and turned the key. "Fuck, fuck."

The truck started. Wil put it into gear as a sedan blew around them with a loud blast of its horn. But just when Katie expected Wil to pull the Bronco back into the flow of traffic—just when her heart was racing and she felt breathless and full of regret for surprising Wil with such an ill-timed confession—Wil's shoulders dropped, and she blew out a breath and looked over at Katie.

Just looked at her with her serious blue eyes, all her scary intelligence and intensity, for one long, suspended beat. "Fuck," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," Katie said. "I shouldn't have." She wasn't sure what she meant that she shouldn't have done. If she meant she shouldn't have said it, or if she meant that she shouldn't have loved Wil.

Although she didn't regret either.

"Don't be sorry," Wil said. "I'm pretty sure I was in love with you, too."

Katie clasped her wrist, twisting her fingers around it like the bracelet Wil had sent her.

The loss of that bracelet was still the easiest thing for Katie to feel angry with Ben about. Her rage when she thought of him taking it—hiding it or throwing it away because he knew it was important to her—was utter.

Katie had loved that fucking bracelet.

She had loved.

She wished it had been easier—it had even been possible—to understand her own feelings when she was eighteen years old.

She wished she'd known that it mattered how safe she felt sitting in Wil's bed, her feet on Wil's lap, laughing and talking for hours. That it mattered how her stomach tightened and she got grayed out when Ben kept her late at summer stock for extra coaching, when he stood too close behind her and whispered in her ear and she couldn't see him, could only feel his muscled forearm banded around her stomach, holding her motionless, and his voice telling her what she was bad at, what she didn't understand, what she still needed to learn and he would teach her.

"I didn't mean to never see you again." Katie was a little surprised to hear the strength of her feelings making her voice tremble. "I've never avoided you. I know my mom has been protective. I think—No, I know, for sure, that I put my feelings for you away somewhere that I didn't have to think about missing you. There wasn't any way, when I first was in California, with Ben, to make space for anything that had been important to me before."

The roundabout had emptied of traffic. The road they were on wasn't a busy one. Wil got the truck moving again. She took a deep breath. "When I turned eighteen, I felt like the life I had been living had run out. That's the age you get tested. Before, I didn't have to worry about it. But also, when I had that birthday in April, you were there. I was hanging out with you. We were spending all of our free time together, and so it felt like I was getting this extra time. I still had my dad."

"You waited more than ten years after that." Katie didn't worry about how this would sound, she just let herself say it. She felt as though she were sitting on that trestle under the bridge with Wil. They used to be able to talk about anything, everything, without worrying how it would sound. Katie couldn't worry about this conversation. It had been waiting so long for them to finally be ready to have it.

Wil signaled and turned left into a neighborhood that Katie hadn't been to before. She drove a few blocks, quiet, and pulled over at the curb.

"My dad got me to Michigan," Wil said. "Pure ambition and how badly I wanted to make him proud got me graduated, even after he died. Also." Wil cleared her throat, hard. It made tears fill Katie's eyes. "I felt like I was in this race to get as much done as I could before I started having symptoms. The minute I rested, the summer after graduation, it was like I ran out of something."

"Wil," Katie said softly. "Of course you did. You know that, right? That you had to rest?"

Wil looked over at Katie, the rims of her eyes red. "Maybe not?"

Now Katie cleared her throat to keep it from closing up. "Our mothers were correct to worry about us both so much," Katie said. "Possibly, they still are correct."

Wil gave a tight nod, looking at Katie. "Thanks."

Katie knew what her gratitude was for. It was for saying the thing. It was for how easy this reunion was, and how hard. It was for the Katie and Wil thirteen years ago and their confused, perfect, vulnerable hearts.

Wil smiled and pointed through the windshield at a house ahead on the right. "That's where he lives. Or where he lived a decade ago. He might have moved."

"No one ever moves in this town if they can possibly help it. What if you sold your house and the horrible Bears fans that bought it turned around and sold it a year later for twenty percent more after tearing down the Packers green-and-gold wishing well that your dad made for the front yard? Could you stand to let a Bears fan steal your investment after you were the one who updated the furnace and paid for that new roof?" Katie sat up and leaned forward. "Turn off your lights. There's a car coming."

Wil barked out a surprised laugh, but she cut the ignition and lights. "It's pulling into the drive," Wil whispered.

"Oh my God."

They watched the silver sedan slowly turn into the drive, where it idled. Both the passenger's and driver's-side doors opened.

"Holy fuck, Katie. That's Brunette."

"It is! Wow. She is holding right up. Look at her ass!"

"Shh!"

They watched as Mr. Cook and Brunette met at the trunk. They leaned toward each other. A light in the front yard cast a shadow over the couple where they stood, and Katie couldn't tell if they were kissing or talking close to each other's heads.

"Are they?" Wil asked.

Katie scooted closer to Wil, reaching over to grip Wil's thigh. "I can't fucking see, but do you do whatever they're doing with a friend? Or a colleague?"

"Your hand is on my thigh, Katie."

Katie looked at her. "Do you want me to tell you how many carnal fantasies I've had about you, Wilifred Greene? Because I will do that. I'll do that right now. There were at least six just today. We are struggling, right now, with ‘friends.'"

Wil put her hand over Katie's on her thigh, rubbing over Katie's wrist with her thumb. "Do you want me to tell you mine?"

Katie gasped, want sluicing over her body in a terrible, hot wave. "Yes. No."

"Look," Wil said, pointing out the window.

Mr. Cook and Brunette came apart, but they were holding hands, and then Brunette got into the driver's seat and started pulling out while Mr. Cook jogged to the front door of the house.

"What just happened?" Katie asked. "What? I don't get it."

"Come on, get out of the truck."

Katie opened her door, still disoriented by her feelings and her sudden horniness, and slid-slash-fell out of the truck onto a neighbor's lawn.

"Are you okay?" Wil shout-whispered, coming around and holding out her hand.

"Yes. Shit."

Wil pulled her over to the sidewalk. "We're on a walk. Ladies on a walk." She hadn't let go of Katie's hand.

"You should get out your phone and look at it, and I'll talk to you about something boring. Not sex things."

Wil squeezed her hand and gave her a look that made Katie want to stop walking and press her thighs together, but then she got out her phone.

They approached Mr. Cook's house in the dark, crunching over remnants of half-frozen snow, pretending to be on a walk, Katie talking about if she thought Trois's eye drops were working for a mysterious eye goop issue. As they passed Mr. Cook's house, Katie saw that the front curtains were still partially open. There was a Christmas tree lit up in the corner and a flat-screen tuned to the news on a wall above a fireplace.

A blond woman was sitting on the sofa.

"Katie!" Wil hissed.

"I know! I see her."

Mr. Cook walked into the room with a plate, sat down next to the woman, and put his arm around her.

Wil let out a small scream and started running, pulling Katie with her. They ran all the way back to the truck and got inside of it, slamming the doors and starting it up, peeling out of the neighborhood.

They got to the stop sign at the end of the street and started laughing.

"What does it meeeaaan?!" Katie finally managed to say. "Wil!"

"I don't know! That we are fully grown women without sense or boundaries?"

"I don't owe Mr. Cook sense or boundaries." Katie felt a spark of rage. "All we've confirmed is that he's managed to hold on to two fucking women for thirteen fucking years!"

"Two that we know of."

"Oh my God." Katie made her eyes huge and plastered both hands over her mouth. "This is too much sudden reality in the Mr. Cook department."

"You know why?" Wil asked. "Because tonight is the most actual investigating we've ever done."

"I'm proud of us," Katie said. "Look at our growth!"

They laughed on and off all the way back to Katie's and around the driveway to her suite. It was still at least an hour until dinner would be ready, so there was time for Wil to help with her script. But walking with her to the door into the suite, Katie was hit with the same desperate want she'd felt when Wil touched her hand, when she'd looked at her, and she couldn't pretend it wasn't happening. She didn't want to.

This, right here, wasn't something that Katie had ever gotten. Not the way she wanted it. This swooping, impulsive, buzzing, terrifying, hot bolt of want, of now, of this one—the sense she'd do anything to satisfy it without inhibition, without thinking, without caring about even the most dire consequences.

She had never felt so absolutely present in her entire life.

"Wil," Katie said, opening the suite's door and pulling her inside.

Wil moved in front of her once Katie had closed the door on the dim suite. Katie glanced at her babies to try to dilute the feeling with a semblance of domestic habit. Trois was grooming Phil's head, and Sue was probably on Katie's bed, sleeping hard. This time of evening was in the middle of her big sleep.

She didn't care, she didn't care, she didn't care.

God.She leaned toward Wil, who smelled like something familiar and good. What was it? Oh. ChapStick. Regular ChapStick. Pale pink in a black-and-white tube.

Then Katie thought about kissing it off, rough.

Wil touched her arm. She was studying Katie, and she looked as though she knew Katie was thinking about kissing her, which made sense, because Wil had a lot of experience with knowing when people wanted to kiss her. She was a high-level expert in kissing.

Knowing this made Katie unbearably, unsurvivably, recklessly hornier.

"Tell me," Wil said.

Katie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I want you. Understatement." She opened her eyes.

Wil looked all around her face. "Me, too. Not me, you."

Katie let herself put her fingertips on Wil's mouth. The blood bounded in her wrists. "Unfortunately, we have no confirmation on our bet, even after confusing every doorbell camera on Mr. Cook's street. So I cannot kiss you. It isn't permitted."

"That's not the only reason why." Wil reached up and gently dragged Katie's fingers from her mouth.

Why was that so hot? Jesus.

"Because you only do that on Wednesdays and Saturdays." Katie tried to get this to sound flippant, but her inability to kiss Wil was making her want to smash something, and her voice betrayed her frustration.

Wil shook her head. "No. I would kiss anyone I wanted to on any day."

"Oh. That's really good to hear, Wil."

Wil's brows pushed together just a little in the tiniest frown. "But if I ever kissed someone I wanted, who wasn't for the channel, who I was kissing entirely for myself, I would never kiss anyone for the channel again. It would mean I was done with that. It would mean more than a conversation with a few million people about kissing and intimacy and vulnerability. I told you. About my pair bonding. That's a true thing." Wil's voice was low, and Katie could almost taste her, their faces were so close.

"I can't be on your channel. I can't mess up your life that way."

Or mine.Katie thought of Honor Howell. The Honor Howell who'd wondered aloud if Katie was truly interested in more than the spotlight would not be convinced otherwise by Katie kissing Wil for an audience of millions.

"Yeah," Wil said. "I figured that out. But I don't think you would come on my channel even if it wouldn't cause a circus."

Katie shook her head. "If I kiss you." She couldn't help it. She hooked her hand in Wil's belt. There wasn't a way to tug her closer, but she didn't want her to get away, either. "It would be for the same reason you kissed me."

"Which is?" Wil said this to the side of Katie's mouth, and Katie knew exactly, exactly why in scripts, in these moments, one of the lovers would growl. She could feel that growl right at the base of her throat, where her clitoris had tossed it angrily.

"I think we could only kiss each other for the reasons we would've kissed each other under the bridge."

"What if we had? What if we'd kissed?" Wil's voice was low and sexy. Katie felt a tug by her hip and realized Wil had a handful of her flannel. The parts of her body that held her in a standing position threatened to buckle, while other parts that were usually soft came to instant, throbbing attention.

"I wouldn't have stopped," Katie said, without thinking at all. She kept not thinking. "Ever. I'd still be kissing you. Right now, we'd be in some three-bedroom in Ann Arbor, making out in front of the TV after you'd come home from the firm downtown and I had wrapped up rehearsal at a painfully cool local theater."

"Katie." Wil's tone held the teeniest, tiniest bit of warning.

Because what Katie had let herself say was an acknowledgment of how much bigger this was than either of them had a handle on, and of how much, exactly, they both had to lose.

Even in her feverish, blurting imagination, Katie hadn't been able to imagine a world where she and Wil were together and both of them had what they'd wanted. Instead, she'd imagined a world in which she wasn't Katie Price. She was a small-time actress in local theater. Wil was someone who'd stayed in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and become an Ann Arbor lawyer, which was a dream of Wil's life without texture or ambition or even creativity.

And still, Katie didn't want to let go of this fantasy, because she could imagine the part where they were together at the end of the day. The part where they came home to each other. The part where every day was the biggest day she could imagine for herself as herself, as Katie Price, and still, still, still, the best part of her day was Wil Greene.

She just couldn't imagine being allowed to have it. Her life didn't belong to her enough for that to be possible. She had to be safe, she had to be correct, she had to be trustworthy, and even if there were a way for her to be all of those things and still have Wil, being part of Katie Price's life would mean Wil never got to have her own.

"Okay. But," she said.

"But."

"There are so many, many things that aren't kissing."

Because Katie could be this, with Wil, now.

She could have what they'd had tonight, just for as long as it lasted until their time ran out. They could have this together, this out-of-time, home-for-the-holidays moment, because the universe owed it to both of them. It would be impossible, ever, to regret it. Katie had never wanted anything this much.

"Come here." Wil led her to the love seat, where she pulled her down to sit. "I'm having a hard time standing up at the level of turned on I am at the moment."

Katie watched Wil shrug out of her coat and put it on the ground. She looked overwarm, flushed, and blonder in her pale blue sweater. The jeans were offending Katie, they were so hot.

Katie took off her coat and then her hat and wig, running her hands through her hair, closing her eyes at how much better it felt.

Wil studied her. "What do you want?"

"I want whatever is the same mood as our whole day so far." Katie thought about it, her body buzzing. "Easy, with both of us doing some first part of something. Sexy, but with a little immaturity thrown in. Also, I haven't had a partner, even a casual one, for a very long time, so I like the idea of… steps." Katie didn't recognize her voice, and she was someone who had used a lot of different voices over the years.

Wil shifted to lean against the back of the sofa. "Do you ever look at or read erotic stuff?"

"Yes." Wil's question raced through her body. "A lot. Not so much look, but read."

"Me, too. Not so much look, but read. You know what one of my favorite kind of stories is?"

"Tell me right now." Katie got closer. Even moving her legs made her have to close her eyes involuntarily at the tension between them.

"Like, there are all different ways to tell the story, but say there's these roommates."

"Yes." She wanted to laugh. Yes was what actors were trained to say in improv classes, always yes, and this was the best improv scene Katie had ever been part of. Yes to talking about erotic stories with Wil. Yes to Wil's denim-clad thighs and hot pink white-blond gorgeousness next to Katie on the couch.

Wil laughed. "And they start talking about masturbation. Usually like, Oh, I never do that. And What? You don't? I do it all the time, why not?"

"The show-me-how stories." Katie laughed. "They are solid gold."

"Yes, and the other part of that kind of story I like is the Doesn't it feel better when we do it together? Why is that? I have no idea."

Katie was extremely turned on. It was terrible. She couldn't stop smiling. "I have an amazing idea."

"I bet." Wil smiled, too. That beautiful mouth. Those blue eyes. Katie felt so lucky.

"How do you do it?" Katie thought this was the best question she had ever asked anyone, ever. Mainly because she was asking Wil.

"I'm extremely old-school," Wil said. "Middle two fingers, indirect pressure, two and a half minutes."

Jesus.

"Unfasten your pants and get those fingers down there."

"Come closer."

Katie got close, leaning against the back of the love seat, inches from Wil.

Wil dropped lower against the soft sofa back, lifted up her sweater, and unbuckled her wide leather belt, making Katie clench everywhere inside of her body. She unbuttoned her jeans, which had a button fly, until Katie could see her barely rounded, pale belly and the very edge of a pair of black panties. Wil slid her fingers underneath the waistband of them. A noise caught in her throat, and her eyes closed.

"Fuck, Wil." Katie watched the small movements, how Wil's knee came up, her hips jerked.

Wil opened her eyes to look at Katie. Her eyes were so soft. "How do you?"

Katie rose up, turned her body, and straddled Wil's thigh, bracing her forearms on either side of Wil's head on the back of the sofa. Wil's free hand came around Katie's back and up her shirt. It was so good to be this close to her. Absurd not to kiss her fat bottom lip with its crease, not to touch her tongue to the depression above her mouth, but Katie loved the constraint. It meant they had to work around it. It meant they had to think, get interesting, get vulnerable, which was something actors liked to talk about and Katie prided herself on knowing how to do, even though it was obvious now that she'd never been vulnerable quite like this before.

She'd never felt so determined and so uncertain. Not imagining what it might feel like to do this, not trying to put herself in the role of someone who felt this way, but actually her, settling herself down over Wil Greene's thigh with her hands shaking, caught between desperate desire and reckless laughter.

She let herself push hard against Wil's thigh, one explicit movement, looking into her eyes. "Like that."

Wil sucked in a breath. "I love that." She slid her hand up Katie's back and pressed, so Katie relaxed and put her head against Wil's shoulder, looking at Wil's hand in her jeans, working.

At first, it was so slow and so quiet. Katie felt herself almost floating, tethered by Wil's arm around her and her hot thigh, the audacity of bringing herself off like this where Wil could see, in this way she'd done forever, but never for or with anyone else.

It was that precise, peculiar strangeness, though, that suddenly tightened everything, made her rub against Wil harder, and was making her wet. Wil's wrist and forearm, working herself, the noises she was making and how she was moving her body were the next thing that made it all bigger, hotter, overwhelming, close.

"Oh my God, Katie," Wil panted. "Fuck me, just like that."

That worked, too. It really, really worked for Katie. "Wil." She had to close her eyes because she was winding up to that place, much more intense than she'd ever felt. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it to her collarbones, and Wil's hand moved restlessly over her exposed skin.

Almost there, she put her hand on Wil's where it was under her panties, and Wil made a noise, and her other leg moved up, her foot on the sofa, lifting up her hips, she was coming. That's what did it for Katie. She fell apart, moving hard, Wil's arm under her ass feeling her move. She came, panting against Wil's shoulder.

Both of their bodies relaxed at once, melting into each other. Wil adjusted to hold her fully on her lap. Katie licked Wil's neck softly, kissed it, and Wil shuddered.

"God," Katie said. "Oh my God."

"Was that good for you?" Wil was looking so carefully at Katie with her serious blue eyes, it made Katie's heart hitch. "You're good?"

Physically, she felt amazing, her body humming all over, her heart beating fast. Happy. Easy. It had been so easy to do this thing that she'd wanted, and for Wil to guess how to do it in a way that matched what Katie had told her she wanted it to feel like, and that was perfect.

It was so perfect that Katie knew it was going to take her a while to sort out how it made her feel. There was some anger that it had never happened before, that she'd never had this with another person when it was obviously the easiest, best, most fun thing.

"I have so many thoughts," Katie said, barely to Wil. Mostly to herself. "Also, feelings. Yes. Yes, that was good for me."

She should have had it.

She should have known it was something she could have.

The only question now was how long she could have this.

Have Wil.