"Hey." Billy was leaning against the doorjamb, watching me moisturize my face in the mirror.

"Hey, back at you," I offered.

"Do you think this stuff does anything?" He asked as he moved next to me and picked up a face serum.

"I don't know. I know it triggers my brain to know that I'm getting ready for bed," I admitted.

Billy silently nodded and set the bottle on the vanity before sliding up to sit next to it.

After a moment of silence, he began with "so..."

"So," I mirrored back to him while tapping on eye cream.

"How did your evening go?" He pushed with growing annoyance.

"Pretty good. Yours?"

"You love me, right?" Frustration permeated his voice.

I let my hands drop from my face and looked directly at him for the first time. "Someone is being very dramatic," I noted.

"Well, I think you love me, but it also seems you're actively trying to kill me right now. Did you know that stress is the leading killer of men over 40?"

"Actually, my love, heart disease is the leading cause of death of men in their 40s. Why do you think I keep trying to get you to eat a salad?"

Billy let out a groan. "How can you talk about vegetables at a time like this?"

"I can talk about vegetables any time. Did you know that for a while, people thought tomatoes were poisonous? The whole nightshade family, actually: eggplants, peppers, even potatoes." I continued with my skin routine as I spoke.

"It's official; you hate me. I'm in a loveless marriage," Billy lamented.

"And you aren't even married," I added.

"What does a stroke feel like? I have a shooting... no, maybe it's burning... I have a shooting, burning pain emanating from my right eye."

"Well, at least your theatrics are still healthy, so your career isn't in jeopardy."

"What exactly do you think I do?" Billy groaned.

"Presently... whine."

"You used to be so nice to me. I miss that."

"As far as Tess and Timmy know, James is still a virgin," I finally offered.

"Oh, thank God." Billy slumped into the bathroom wall in relief. "The talk with Viv went... it occurred. I don't know. There was a lot of both of us avoiding eye contact, and then she basically kicked me out of her room. I recall her uttering the word 'ew' many times."

"Nailed it," I teased to a very unimpressed Billy. "Well, I think it's safe to say that sex is being thought of by both because, you know, they're humans."

"What? No. What? No. What?"

"Oh, no. Are you broken?"

"Why in hell would you think Viv was thinking about sex?" Billy argued.

"Um, because she is a teen girl." I set down my final night cream to face Billy again.

"Yeah, girls don't think about sex," he asserted.

"I'm sorry; what?"

"I mean, it's not like boys," he added.

"Ah, girls think about sex all the time. I've thought about sex about sixty-three times since you came into the bathroom."

"Okay, first, you can't say about and sixty-three. You can say about sixty, or you can say sixty-three, but not about sixty-three."

"Actually, I just said 'about sixty-three,' so I'm one hundred percent certain that I can say about sixty-three."

"It's an estimate. When you add the about you round," Billy countered.

"I agree it's an estimate, but I disagree with rounding. I may have thought about sex sixty-eight times, or I may have thought about sex sixty times. I'm not really sure; hence the about sixty-three times."

"Is this the conversation we need to be having right now?"

"Well, you said don't say about sixty-three. So, I would ask you, is this the conversation we need to be having right now?"

"You enjoy frustrating me, don't you?"

"Immensely," I admitted.

"So... the Viv and James thing... She's afraid his friends will turn him against her," he continued. "All his friends fear Viv." Billy's brow furrowed as the idea penetrated his thoughts.

"Mmhmm, but now they are not James' dorky friends; they're her boyfriend's friends. It's different."

"Thank God you're here. I don't know what's going on in my own damn house anymore."

"Aw, sweetie; you're so cute when you're baffled." I leaned into him and rested my head on his chest.

"I don't appreciate the condescension, but I appreciate the hug." He kissed the crown of my head. "What should I be doing right now?"

"I don't know. This is the most time I've spent around teens since I was a teenager. I guess whatever you've been doing for well over a decade," I murmured into his chest.

"Yeah, but this isn't her asking me to show her how to throw a curveball. What if she stops talking to me entirely? You hear about that. Kids that become teenagers and then just completely disengage."

"I don't think you need to worry about that right now. But I also wouldn't panic if Viv doesn't want to share everything with you."

"Easier said than done," Billy sighed.

I lifted my eyes to his. "Bedtime?"

"Mmhmm."

I pushed myself off his chest and put away my lotions and serums.

"So," Billy's tone was lighter as he slid from the vanity. "You've thought about sex sixty-three times since I came into the bathroom?"

"Way more than that now," I absently added, knowing the effect it would have on him.

"Way more than that. Do women really think about sex all the time?"

"Of course. Why would you think we didn't?" I laughed.

"I don't know. I always thought that was a guy thing."

"Really? Why? Females enjoyed it just as much as guys. Honestly, I think we enjoy it more."

"Not possible. Guys definitely enjoy sex more than girls."

"Really? Because the last time we had sex, I came four times, and you came once," I noted.

"Sweetheart, that's because I'm that good." Billy's dimples pricked his cheeks.

"Are you? Because I can achieve the same outcome with one hand," I shot back.

"Can you?"

"Whenever I want."

"Prove it," Billy's eyes gleamed.

"Wow, I fell right into that. And you used to be such a gentleman," I teased back.

"Mmhmm, used to, and you didn't seem to care for it at all."

"Oh, I care for that gentleman deeply. Who do you think is on my mind when I have to take matters into my own hands?"

"Woman, you need to get into that bed before I have to take matters into my own hands, and we are both stuck with unsatisfying solo adventures."

"Woman?"

"You heard me," as he spoke, he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder.

A few seconds later, I hit the soft bed. Billy gazed over me for a moment, and the fire in his eyes ebbed to something different, something more delicate.

"What?" My voice came roughly from the disorienting change.

"Show me your hands," his voice cracked.

Confused, I lifted my hands. Billy plucked up my left hand and bent my fingers into his. He then dropped his head and kissed my engagement rings.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, almost to himself.

"For what?" He captivated my eyes.

"After twenty years, I have everything I've always wanted, but sometimes I forget. You're going to be my wife."

"I am." A small giggle escaped my lips at how serious he was.

"It's overwhelming; you're overwhelming."

I sat up with concern. "What?"

"In one person, you are so much. You're my best friend, biggest supporter, closest confidant, and undeniably the sexiest woman I have ever laid eyes on in my entire life... and I've done a lot of looking."

I reached up and pulled him down onto me.

"I love you," he added before he sunk into my neck and let his lips glide over my sensitive skin.

"I love you too." I smiled as I fought the sensations washing over me. "And later, I want to talk about all this looking you've been doing."