Greg was unhelpful about the time Naomi should get to his party. If she showed up too early, she'd appear overeager, but if she arrived too late, their romance would seem like a fling. In the end, she got a ride with Janet, another woman who'd played on the softball team in the past but who'd taken the year off during her maternity leave. If Janet had heard about Naomi and Greg, she didn't mention it and kept the conversation about her three-month-old.

"She's my universe these days. I'm panicking trying to remember if there's enough milk in the fridge or if I made a mistake on the doctor's number I gave my mom." Janet rapped her fingers on the steering wheel.

"It'll go well. Parents have left their kids at home for years, and we turned out fine."

"It's so different when it's your own. I'm going to miss her all night." When they stopped at a red light, Janet checked her phone and smiled at the photo of her daughter on the screen. "Do you want kids?"

Naomi's eyes widened at the dreaded question. She didn't understand the appeal of motherhood. To her, it looked exhausting, and her nephews could get overwhelming with their tantrums. It thrilled her to be ace to decrease her odds of an accidental pregnancy.

Perhaps when she neared the end of her biological baby clock, she'd feel differently, but she couldn't imagine wanting that now. Greg was too focused on his career and financial plan to consider kids. They'd slow down his plan, and that side of him appealed to her. She wasn't sure about after he hit that early retirement age though. It was way too soon to contemplate that conversation.

"It's not on my radar anytime soon."

"My co-workers said it's easier to have them in your twenties when you have more energy than to wait till your thirties."

Naomi said, "I bet it is." Not having them was the easiest option.

After they pulled up to the party, Naomi scurried to the kitchen. She hoped she'd run into Greg there to relive the start of their last date but had no such luck. With the oven already occupied, she tucked the box of wings she'd brought in the freezer, poured herself a drink, and headed into the living room, where the guys played Call of Duty before the hockey game started.

"Nomi!" Ian called out and patted the empty bean bag chair beside him. She would wager that the drink in his hand affected his more positive reception today.

"Hey, Ian. How's it going?"

"I'm great," he drew out the a and grinned like a lazy cat. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm alright."

"Then you need these." He slid a package of strawberry gummies with weed leaves in the background out of his pocket. "Life is meant to be better than alright."

"Edibles?"

"It's all CBD, so it'll mellow you out with no high. I take them to chill right out between exams and midterms."

That explained why his tune differed so much from the game. While she'd occasionally smoked weed while partying in her late teens and early twenties, she feared what she might do or say around Greg or her teammates on that tonight. "I'll stick to my rum, but thanks."

He smiled. "Let me know if you change your mind."

"Did you come alone?"

"Nope." Ian popped the p and gave her a knowing look.

Tara. And Greg wasn't here to make matters worse. Naomi took another drink of her rum and coke, wishing it was the nice caesar he'd prepared for her on their date. He'd remember how much fun they'd had together, right? Or did the awkwardness of their conversation about taking their relationship slowly linger in his mind?

"You sure you don't want this?" Ian pulled out the edible package again.

Naomi looked at his hand and shook her head. Just because Greg and Tara were both missing didn't mean they were together. She might be talking to her friends, and he was always busy with something.

"Leave her be, Ian," Marc said as he walked through the living room. He leaned down and whispered, "Greg's upstairs, and he'd love to see you," with a smile.

"Thanks, there are chicken wings in the freezer when the oven frees up, and I brought some Captain Morgan."

"Right on." Marc kept walking into the kitchen.

Naomi stood and freed herself from the beanbag chair's grasp.

"Be careful, Nomi. You're good people." Ian wore a glazed-over stare.

"And you're drunk and high, my friend."

"Just drunk, but it doesn't make me wrong."

Ian's warning clung to her neck like a bloodsucker as she headed upstairs. The gray carpet on the stairs was soft on her sock-clad feet. She called out as she approached Greg's room.

"Greg, you up here?"

"Nomi, you're finally here." He met her at the door frame, leaning against it without a shirt. She scanned the room but didn't notice Tara. "Like what you see?" he teased.

She liked that Tara was nowhere in sight, but wasn't sure why he was shirtless. It wasn't that hot, and he couldn't have known she'd arrive now. He kept staring at her like he expected a real response to a question he'd teased her with for years. She smiled. "Your bicep curls and front delts are paying off well."

"You'll never change, Nomi, will you?"

Naomi swallowed uncomfortably. Was that a shot at her or the fact that she wasn't blushing or flustered? "Am I supposed to?"

"No." He stroked her face. "It keeps me humble. Come, you can help me figure out what to wear."

She followed him into the room. "You've been up here the whole time studying your clothes?"

"Nah, the pig roast prep was messy, so I rinsed off so I could change."

"Pig roast?"

He opened the closet. "Yeah, a few of the guys chipped in. You should see it in the backyard. Kind of epic."

"Cool, I will." She set her drink on his bedside table and looked through the shirts on hangers, running her fingers over the soft fabrics. She stopped on a thin, long-sleeved green sweater with a few buttons at the top and pulled it out. "I like how this one brings out your eyes."

He accepted the shirt from her but remained close enough for his breath to tickle her lips. "You're a funny woman, Nomi."

"How so?"

"No matter how often I work out, you only notice my eyes."

Now, they stared at her mouth, which drew her attention to his full lips and how he bit his bottom one. Her heart beat quicker with their proximity, and she sensed he was waiting for her to act, so she brushed her lips against his. He pulled Naomi closer with a hand on the small of her back as he dropped the shirt to the floor. His kisses were intense, working their way down to her collarbone. As his hand travelled under her shirt, she tried not to tense and hooked his fingers in hers, squeezing them gently.

"Sorry, Nomi. You have this effect on me."

Would it be the same every time?

It would be until she told him about her asexuality. She couldn't keep hiding it and expect their relationship to succeed.

"Greg, I've been wanting to tell you about—"

Suddenly the house lights flickered off, and everyone hollered from downstairs that the TV had broken. He cursed and picked up his shirt from the floor. "That damned electrical panel has been giving us trouble all week. I'll fix this, and you can tell me after that, okay?"

He pressed his forehead to hers, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile, and pecked her on the lips. She sighed. She would be in heaven if they always kissed like that. There was something about its sweet nature that melted her heart. He fled, leaving her wondering if she could work up the nerve to tell him again.

She sipped her drink and lay down on his bed. Once, not long after her first break-up when he was still living with his parents, they'd gone out drinking together, and he'd offered to let her stay over to avoid her cabbing home alone. They'd stumbled up the stairs with the gracefulness of koalas slipping out of trees. Luckily, the house had been empty, save them, and they'd staggered to his room. 

He flung open the door nearly falling over in the process, "Your castle, my queen."

Unlike her ex's place, Greg always kept his space clean and inviting. As she slinked inside, Greg remained leaning on the doorframe, watching her with a dazed smile.

"Are you going to sleep upright like a vampire?" She laughed to herself.

He bit his bottom lip. "You want me to sleep here... with you?"

"I'm not that revolting, am I?" She raised an eyebrow.

He laughed and tucked his hands in his pockets. "God no. You're absolutely gorgeous."

She threw herself onto the bed and the cloud of pillows caught her with a gentle sigh. The mattress dipped as Greg sat beside her, his hesitance and distance reminding her of that awkward guy she crushed on throughout high school. She reached out to hold his hand then stroked his arm's soft skin. With a shaky exhalation, he lowered himself to her level, giving her access to his brown locks. His fingers found her hair and scalp, gently tousling and massaging. 

"Greg." She savoured the sensation, closing her eyes, but the world swirled like the bed would fall out beneath her. She clenched her eyes even tighter, willing the nauseating sensation to pass.

Shit, she was hammered, so was he, and this was not how she imagined this beginning. If only she could snap her fingers and they'd both be sober but still this close. Greg nuzzled against her neck. His warm breath made her shiver in both a pleasant and nervous way.

"You can't kiss me," she blurted out, making him freeze and scoot away with wide eyes. "But you can cuddle me to sleep." 

"You sure?" He searched her face. 

She nodded with a smile and rested her head on his chest. Then she'd wake up in his arms, like she'd dreamed of. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. As she drifted off, she traced her initials on his t-shirt with her index finger. 

But when morning arrived, she woke up alone, only confirming that her sober friend had no interest in her. 

As Naomi stood up, grabbed her drink and headed out, she met Tara in the doorway.

"Naomi... you're... here." Tara was one of the few women who matched Naomi in height. Smooth black eyeliner made her brown eyes pop, and her red dress rivalled the uncomfortably revealing garment Naomi had worn to the club.

"Greg's downstairs checking on the power. I'm just leaving."

As Naomi slipped by and down the hall, Tara muttered. "Two fucking years together, and this is how he treats me."

Naomi wanted to run and avoid this drama, but Tara seemed hurt. Kieran had supported her yesterday, and maybe she could pay that action forward. "He still cares about you, if it's any consolation."

"Does he tell you that before or after sticking his tongue down your throat?"

Naomi flinched and stepped toward the stairs.

Tara sighed and rubbed her forehead. "He swore nothing transpired between you two, but I knew he was lying. Congratulations, you won, like you always do with him," she muttered with more bitterness than anger.

"Nothing happened until after you broke up, and he's still upset about the split which I heard was your idea. He's trying to move on with someone who cares a lot about him."

Tara's forehead wrinkles deepened then disappeared when she smiled at Naomi. "Enjoy the party."

"You too."

Naomi nervously gulped her rum. Should she have taken Ian up on that edible?

***

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Naomi almost told Greg, but this time it wasn't her hesitation that stopped her. Lots of drama ahead as this party sequence continues. Any thoughts on what's going on with Tara?