I had a sense that I'd said the wrong thing, inadvertently bringing up memories of the times we'd been separated, both by my voluntary stupidity and forces beyond us. He shook it off quickly, and I decided to stifle my apology, for the time being.

Chuckling softly, I said, "A reminder of us in our prime, I see." Glancing over my shoulder, I caught his eyes, giving him a softer smile than the moment might've outwardly called for. But then he arranged me for the camera, reminding us both of the game we'd started.

And then there was his tongue, and I could think of little else. "Oh my God," I groaned, dropping to my elbows, my cheeks flushing at the thought of what we must look like in that moment.