Gina helps Miles

The group disperses slowly, people peeling off in different directions, the night finally winding down into whatever comes after.

Miles stays exactly where he is.

He waits until the last person has disappeared down the hallway. Then he waits another thirty seconds for good measure.

He looks down at his situation.

Still very much present. Completely unresolved. Showing absolutely no signs of improvement.

He exhales slowly.

Footsteps in the hallway.

Gina appears in the doorway of the common area, still in the black and white checkered shirt and white shorts, her blonde hair slightly undone from the evening. She looks around the empty room then at him still sitting on the couch in his boxers.

Gina: forget something?

Miles: I was going to ask you the same thing.

She leans against the doorframe.

Gina: not really. Just checking on you.

Her eyes drop. They stay there for a moment with the particular expression of someone conducting an assessment.

Gina: looks like you're still going quite strong.

Miles: yeah. No thanks to the pill you gave me. And the lap dance from Cadey.

Gina: the lap dance was Zoey's idea.

Miles: the pill was yours.

Gina: I didn't know what was in it.

Miles: and yet here we are.

She pushes off the doorframe and walks into the room, stopping in front of him.

Gina: I mean. Cadey owes you more than a lap dance given what she put you through.

Miles: actually it's your fault. With the pill. So if anything you owe me.

Gina looks at him for a moment.

Gina: oh really.

Miles: really.

Gina: and what exactly is it that you think I owe you.

He holds her gaze.

Miles: whatever it takes.

She looks at him for a long moment. Something moves behind her expression, a decision being made and then made again for good measure.

Then she puts both hands on his shoulders and pushes him back against the couch, swinging her leg over him and straddling his lap in one smooth motion.

She kisses him.

It is not tentative. It is immediate and purposeful, her hands going to his face, his going to her waist. They kiss slowly and thoroughly, her hips settling against him, neither of them in any particular hurry now that the direction has been established.

He pulls back and finds her neck, his lips moving along it slowly. She tilts her head, giving him access, her hands moving into his hair.

She pulls back and looks at him. Then she reaches down and pulls her checkered shirt over her head in one motion, dropping it on the cushion beside them.

Underneath she is wearing a nothing , which somehow makes it more effective.

She reaches for his hands and guides them to her breasts, watching his face as she does.

He leans forward and puts his mouth on her, his lips and tongue moving slowly, his hands cupping her. She exhales quietly above him, her fingers tightening in his hair.

He kisses across to the other side, unhurried, his hands moving over her warm skin.

She looks down at him with dark bright eyes, her breathing already different from when she walked through the door.