These Are the Fast Times

Michael

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“Mike! You missed the exit!” Melly leans forward in her seat to smack his arm.

“I did not, it’s the next one!” he briefly turns around to scowl.

“It was the last one!” she retorts, settling back next to me.

“I think she’s right, Mike,” William agrees, frowning as he studies a map.

I roll my eyes and suppress an entertained smirk as Mike ignores him and continues to bicker with Melly.

“Chizzy, tell your girlfriend to let the men handle the driving because I’m right,” Mike smirks.

“Fuck you, Mike,” Melly retorts. “Tell him I’m right, Michael.” I shake my head at the two of them.

“It was the last one, Mike,” I answer finally, with a sigh.

“See?” Melly sticks her tongue out at him.

“Traitor…” Mike mutters to me under his breath.

I glance to the backseat and laugh quietly to myself at the sight of Butcher sleeping with his head resting on Sisky’s shoulder while Tony’s curled up on the opposite side.

“Get off at the next exit so we can figure out where we are,” Bill advises to a still grumbling Mike.

We find out which route to take home after another hour, then we’re finally back in city limits by nighttime.

“I’m exhausted,” I complain, yawning for emphasis as I collapse on the bed.

Bill and Mike have gone to Sisky and Butcher’s place, leaving the apartment to Melly and me.

She joins me on the bed, curling into my side.

“Too tired?” she asks teasingly, her mouth at my ear and her hand playing with the hem of my t-shirt. “It’s been awhile,” she states.

“It’s been a week,” I point out, wanting to laugh.

Touring around the Midwest in a 9 person van isn’t the ideal situation for your love life.

“Exactly,” she grins back. I yawn again, closing my eyes. She slips out from under my arm and I hear her open a dresser drawer.

“I don’t know…maybe you should work for it, for once,” I say jokingly, opening one eye to look at her. She raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m not really in the mood. Maybe a strip-tease is in order.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” she teases right back at me, hands on her hips and a smirk on her lips.

“Funny,” I dryly reply. I stifle yet another yawn.

“Fine,” she says decisively, digging around in a dresser drawer and then walking into the bathroom with a small bundle of clothes.

“What do you mean, ‘fine?’” I call after her. “Fine, what?” She doesn’t answer.

She returns a few minutes later, wearing the dress she wore on our last date, knowing how well it shows off her body in the best places.

I suppress a laugh, even though her plan is working, and suddenly I’m not so tired anymore.

“You’re going to sleep in that?”

She keeps her face stubbornly stoic.

“Yes,” she replies, almost cracking a grin, and getting under the covers like nothing.

“Do you know what?” I say, scooting closer to her, pulling her to me by the waist so I can whisper in her ear.

“What?”

“You’re ridiculous,” I inform her, kissing the skin below her ear. “That’s why I love you.” I continue to plant kisses from her ear down her neck until she suddenly stops me.

“Hold on. I don’t want to ruin my dress.” I laugh as she gets back out of bed to slip out of the dress and carefully fold and place it back inside her dresser drawer.

I stop her before she joins me again.

“You’re forgetting something.” She raises her eyebrows quizzically. “I don’t think this relationship is going to work if you tell me you don’t want to ruin your dress every time I tell you I love you.”

“You’re right,” she smiles in that way I love as she gets under the covers. “I love you,” she says, making me smile. She sighs dramatically. “I guess.”