one day, when she's already in it too deep...

January 2083 ((not so) mini-update) - Amelia Bradshaw is 27, Tyler Jackson is 19, Drew Bruty is 26. *optional soundtrack, "Destiny," by Zero 7*

*** warnings: *blushing* Ummm, not safe for work, or any children playing in the background. This was meant to be a lot tamer before that song came on precisely as I was shooting the last scene, and well, things took a drastic (but hopefully tasteful) turn for the steamier from there! ;) ***

She refuses to think of herself as a slut. Were she a man, nobody would think twice about the number of people she's slept with. It's just a number, and it isn't even that high, considering. She's twenty-seven years old, which means she's been an adult for almost ten years now. She was single for a lot of that time. She was single in college.

It all started three weeks ago, new year's eve, and a long close night spent on the couch. It happened again, once or twice or three times, falling asleep in front of some movie, his hands on her skin, whatever skin was accessible, which was usually quite a bit. Then the warmth of his body heat, and her body heat, which adds up to just too much heat, and finally stripping off her jacket in the night with nothing underneath but that little tiny tank top. Their arms and bodies, twisting in tandem, in tangle, and he finally had to tell her she was driving him crazy.

He might be a sweetheart, but he is a man, after all, and she is Amelia Bradshaw with the cleavage of doom.

He actually said that, "the cleavage of doom." She understands how this must frustrate him. She isn't the least bit a pristine virgin, but then she's making him wait, after he's been waiting years for her to come around already, holding him here in limbo, with just the pure sweet kisses of a junior high school love affair. Some of her little cousins are getting more action, she's sure!

But she told him, as soon as she sleeps with him, it will get stale, he'll lose interest, he'll fall in love with someone else, someone with a big forehead or who looks like an ex-girlfriend. It's happened before. Then she'll spend the next year or two wondering what went so wrong. So sure, she wants to, of course she wants to, she's just scared of what will happen.

But Drew doesn't get mad. He's a gentleman, and respects her wishes. He'll wait as long as she wants, with just one rule - as much as he enjoys them, there can't be any more scantily-clad cuddle sessions, if they're not headed anywhere. He'll just sulk off to write some torrid poem about it, in equal parts yearning and angst, and of course, he'll need a long cold shower.

Waiting is expected when you're young, but Amelia didn't wait long. She should have waited when she was fifteen, when Alon Hutchins said "It's okay if we're careful." And they were perfectly careful, but it didn't end up okay. She wasn't enough for him, twice.

Waiting becomes questionable when you're older, when you're "old enough" for it. She should have waited with Jason, when she was rebounding hard, and barely knew if she liked him yet, when she was maybe even trying to get back at Bella a little. They didn't wait long to get into bed together, but instead, they waited for the love to kick in. It never did, which is not to say they didn't eventually love each other in a familiar way, but the deep and soul-burning love never kicked in. Eventually he just wanted to get married. It didn't even seem to matter who.

She should have waited with Corbin, when she was drunk at her cousin's wedding, or those times after yoga class, when he was hard and sexy and quiet like he is and she just couldn't resist, she should have resisted. Because when he told her he cared about her, she started to wonder if she did too. But his idea of caring isn't something she knows how to share.

Or is this all just part of living and learning? All those times she should have waited, and now that she is actually waiting with Drew, she feels like a freak, because she loves him. There, it's said - she loves him. And it terrifies her because even if she loves him it might not be enough to make it last.

But she snaps herself out of these thoughts, because Thursday night is college night, if she isn't too old to remember all those crazy Thursday nights after a hard week of classes. And Oh Lord, here is Tyler Jackson, in the flesh (and what nice flesh it is!), sitting down at the bar right next to her.

She's trying not to stare.

She fails.

He asks finally, "Do I know you?"

"No," she says. "No, you don't." And she doesn't really know him either, not if sudden and slightly inappropriate crushes don't count anyway.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'm kind of seeing somebody," she says.

"So am I," he says. "Kind of. I'm supposed to be broadening my horizons. Hey, come talk to me for a minute. I won't tell your boyfriend."

The choose a small sectional in the corner, and he comes right out with the question of his very existence. "Can you explain women to me?"

"Uhhh," Amelia stammers.

"She says she loves me more than anything, but she doesn't want a boyfriend?"

"That's probably just what she means then."

"But she still wants to have sex with me?"

Amelia isn't surprised. "Must be good then," she says.

He smiles wide and says, "You wanna try?"

She laughs. "No," she says. He's nineteen. She forgot how nineteen year-olds are - hot as hell until you actually talk to them.

"I think I need to have sex with somebody," he says. "Other than her."

"It probably won't fulfill you or anything," she says.

"Let me tell you a secret," she says. "It's all pretty much the same, the physical part. When it's good, it's good, and then sometimes it's not. Well, most of the time. There's this one guy."

"Not your boyfriend."

"It's complicated," she says.

"How many men have you been with?" he asks her.

"I'm not telling you that!"

"Come on, ball park, it's not like we know each other or anything."

"Ball park? What, like I wouldn't know exactly?"

"I'll go first," he says. "One. Can you believe that, just one? Like I'm some kind of holy roller or something. I'm in college, for crying out loud!"

"But you love her," Amelia says.

"Yeah, I do," he says.

"And she's gorgeous."

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"I just figured," Amelia says, remembering back to hearing Summer's sob story right here in this very club.

"Now you," he says.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she starts. "Nine."

"Wow," he says.

"Hey!" she says. "I remember all of their names, and I can still count them on my hands, that's not bad. I'm a lot older than you."

"And complicated guy? What makes him so complicated?"

"He's just, very..." She tries to put into words the sexual presence that is Corbin Gray. "He's strong," she says. "Commanding? That's a better word, commanding."

"Girls like commanding?"

"Sometimes. Not always," she says.

"And your boyfriend isn't commanding?"

"Well, it doesn't exactly work like that, in opposites." She brings Drew's gentle touches to mind, and it brings static to her skin as if he were actually here touching her. She says, "Let's just say he's not going to be throwing me up against walls any time soon."

"Do people really do that?"

She watches his face squint as he obviously wonders if he could throw his girlfriend up against a wall. She smiles. "Well, once."

"So, he's better than your boyfriend then? Is that why it's complicated?"

"I don't actually know," she says. "We haven't gotten that far yet." She's embarrassed as she says, "I think I'm scared."

"You've been with nine guys and now you're scared?"

"It's just that I've had these relationships where after the sex, it all just goes stagnant. It's like all the mystery is gone and being with me becomes a chore. I never thought I was boring. God, I must be boring."

"I doubt you're boring," Tyler says. "They're just the wrong guys. Isn't that the whole point? That when you're with the right one, it can go on and on for your whole life?"

He's sweet, she thinks, despite being nineteen. The heartbreak spills from his every word. Amelia asks, "How long have you been with her?"

"Six years," he says. "Longer than that, maybe? I don't remember meeting her. We went to school together our whole lives. It's like I've always known her."

"And it never went stale?"

"Not for me," he says. "But for her..." His voice trails off, as does his gaze, to somewhere behind her in the room.

But then he snaps back again. "So you've been through this then, what do you think I did wrong?"

"I don't know," she says. "I'm sorry, I wish I knew."

They share this, for a moment, the silence of a mutual confusion.

"So he'll make ten then?"

She says, "What?"

"Your boyfriend, the tenth finger," he says. "He better be the one, huh?"

She laughs. "Yeah, I guess he'd better be," she says. "You know, I think I'm going to go see what he's up to."

"Wait," he says, as they stand. "Would you kiss me?"

She says, "Aren't we both kind of seeing people?"

"I'm trying to broaden my horizons," he says. "And she's already kissed a guy, I know that much. So she can't be mad about me kissing someone."

"I can't believe you're asking me this."

He doesn't say anything, but just stands there looking both adorable and pathetic at the same time. It's just a kiss, after all. A little one can't hurt.

"Fine," she says. "I'll do it."

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she says.

"It'll be more fun if you stop saying that," he says.

They kiss. She can tell he's good at it. It's fun in the way kissing is inherently fun, and it's exciting in the way being with someone new is inherently exciting, but it lacks. His heart isn't in it, and it wouldn't be. Hers isn't either.

When it's over, she laughs. "I can't believe I just did that."

***

She goes home to freshen up, to shave, to put on some cuter panties. No, not cute, delicious! She brushes her teeth, after all, she did just have another man's tongue in her mouth. It's late, she'd been talking with Tyler longer than she realized.

When she calls Drew, his voice is heavy. He wasn't sleeping, he says, just watching a movie on the couch, which means he was sleeping. She asks if she can come over, which is technically against his rules at this hour of the night, but all she has to do is ask and he says, "Sure you can."

He meets her there at the corner, just outside his building, coming downstairs in just his pajamas and unlaced sneakers. It's just across the street, she tried to argue, the walk is only a couple minutes at most. But he doesn't care, it's well past midnight, and doesn't she know what awful things could happen in the space of a couple minutes?

This is just where they were when they first met, except he was crossing the street over to her. She thought he was appalling then. She'd just broken up with Jason and was moving into her new place. The way he came over and introduced himself, asking if she knew who he was. She thought he was throwing his money around, but it turns out, he just wanted to introduce himself, and help a pretty girl move into her house.

He says, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she says.

He's been in some state of shock these past couple of weeks, like he can't believe all his charms actually worked, like he's just waiting for her to tell him it was all a big inside joke.

It's not. She starts to smile. How exactly do you phrase this proposition? She decides to go with, "Do you mind if I sleep over?"

He knows what she means.

They start with some pure, sweet, junior high school kissing. Maybe a little hotter than junior high. Maybe they've moved up to tenth grade. This kissing is as much as they've done.

He moves his hands to her waist, a few of his fingers sneaking into that thin ridge of accessible skin under her shirt. This is about where she stopped him last, halfway up her back and trying to unhook her bra. He tries again, moving slowly upward as if she might stop him, but she doesn't. Anything more is new, and her heartbeat races in anticipation. His fingers move lightly, leaving a trail of static behind them, pulling her shirt up as he goes. Up, up, and off, flinging it in the vague direction of the couch.

Her skin becomes electrified, anywhere he touches, tracing from her collarbone, down, finally taking her breast into his hand, that cleavage he's been patiently waiting for finally filling out his palm.

She lifts his shirt off too. She presses his warm chest against her own, falling into him, only slightly aware that they're still standing, and still in his living room.

And finally, what she knows is that she was mistaken. It's hearts, not bodies, that break when these things go wrong. His heart is already in it, her heart is already in it. They could wait longer for this, they could go even slower than they already have, but it wouldn't matter because their hearts are already in it. And that whatever comes next is completely out of her control.

So she takes his hand, and she leads him back to his bedroom.

He leans her back across the bed, he moves himself over her, taking slow pleasure in every touch, every kiss, his rewards for as long as he's been waiting to indulge. When he kisses her, she feels not only his lips against her own lips, against her throat, and her chest, but also she feels his heart, and his soul, and the swell of her pulse beating against his. She feels the whole universe of static electricity on her skin.

This is what it feels like to connect emotionally before physically, and she's honest enough with herself to admit that it does feel overpowering, commanding, and so intense she could nearly cry.

So she concedes, hoping that this won't ever become stale, or that this love won't morph into something vague and metaphysical. Can it really be possible that a man could love her this much forever? Is there any other way to find out but to try?

So one day, when there's no turning back from here, when she's already in it much deeper than she wanted to allow herself to fall, she takes a chance on what she can't control. This is more than hoping. This is closer to a prayer when she's begging, Lord, please, let this time be enough.

*******

notes: This one just kind of popped up out of nowhere for me. Tyler needed another date, and Amelia needed a pep-talk, and then all of the dialogue between them just poured out from there. And well, the end scene was an entirely different story, also just kind of pouring out in a moment of "inspiration." I'm blaming it on the song, lol! :)