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It was a crash course, really.
Mikey wasn’t much of a bassist. There were the late nights spent up with Gee, messing around on guitars and trying to figure out how to play along to the Smashing Pumpkins, but that was about where her experience stopped. That was, before she found herself thrust into having to learn it fully for the sake of Gee and Ray and Matt. After previous rejections from bands, it was hard to be excited about trying again.
“Are you sure you even want me?” She had to ask; it was the third time she had messed up the song while trying to practice it. She was thankful it was only her and Gee around, at least. She would’ve fucked it up more if she had to feel Ray and Matt watching her too.
“In the band? Duh.” Gee responded easily, no hesitation. “C’mon, try again. You’re getting better.”
Mikey sighed, readjusting her fingers as Gee wound back the tape, starting it up again so Mikey could play along. It was the only song that was ‘complete’ so to speak. Skylines and Turnstiles. The memory was still fresh; and it left Mikey fumbling for her chords, while Gee insisted on the easier-said-than-done solution: practice, practice, practice.
The click of Gee’s lighter distracted her as well, and she blinked towards her for a moment. Frowning to herself. “You’re distracting me.” Mikey complained.
Gee rolled her eyes. She paused the tape. “I lit a cigarette.”
“And it was distracting!”
Gee sighed, exhaling her smoke. “If you really don’t wanna be in the band…”
But that wasn’t really the case either. She did want to be in the band. She just wanted to be good at it, too. And right now, that wasn’t seeming like the case. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get her fingers to move quite right. She sighed. “I wanna be in the band.”
Gee grinned at that. “Good. You gotta get going on this. We have practice tonight, and a couple more songs to figure out. Especially if we’re gonna play that gig next week…”
Mikey spluttered. “Next week?”
“Yeah, didn’t I tell you?” Gee inhaled from her cigarette again. “We’re gonna be opening for Pencey Prep.” Mikey almost dropped her bass; groaning. “Look, okay, I know you didn’t get into that band but it’s fine. Frankie’s totally excited to see you play with us.”
Mikey wanted to die, her cheeks flushing pink at the thought of it. It was hard enough to play the bass in front of Ray or Matt, but Frankie? Again? She shook her head quickly. “We can’t play with Pencey Prep.”
Gee sighed. “Mikey, it’s not going to be that bad—” It occurred to Mikey then that Gee just thought she was embarrassed about her failure to get into Pencey Prep. Which, sure, maybe that was somewhat true—but there was more to it than that; and it was that little bit more that would make it all the worse to admit to Gee. Knowing her sister, she’d absolutely try to play wing-woman or something equally mortifying.
“You don’t know that.”
Gee got up from her bed, going over to stand next to Mikey. “Mikes, would I put you up on stage if I didn’t think you could do it?”
“Well, clearly—” Mikey was cut off by a pointed look from Gee. She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “No.”
“And would I think you could do it if you couldn’t? ” Again, Mikey had to stop, think, and sigh.
“... No.” She relented. Gee smiled.
“Exactly.” Gee stepped back, settling on her bed again and rewinding the tape. “C’mon. One more time.”
----
And maybe it worked; by the time the day of the show came around, Mikey was almost feeling better. She was hanging in Pencey Prep’s van, three beers down and leaning against Shauna.
“Seriously, Mikey. I dunno what you’re worried about.” Shauna laughed softly. “You’re gonna be great.” She nudged Mikey’s shoulder lightly; and she laughed softly.
“I’m not even good sober. I’m gonna fuck it up.”
“You’re such a lightweight.” Shauna teased, brushing Mikey’s hair back gently. “We’re super stoked to hear what you guys have. Frankie’s been obsessed with your demo.”
Mikey felt her cheeks heat up immediately at that, her eyes widening slightly as she thought it over. “Oh.” Mikey glanced down at her hands, as if her playing was what Frankie was obsessing over. “Really?”
Shauna leaned in a little closer, smirking a little as she looked Mikey over. “You’re blushing.” She noted with a little grin.
“Shut up. I’m not.” She ducked her head, trying to hide her cheeks. It only made Shauna laugh more. There was a smirk hiding beneath the laughter; and Mikey resented that smirk. Shauna read her all too easily.
“Sure, Mikes. Whatever you say. You’re cute.” Shauna handed her another beer. “C’mon. You’re going on soon. And you’re totally gonna kill it.” Mikey downed the beer as quickly as she could, taking a deep breath, before she climbed out of the van. Shauna followed just behind her.
----
It went better than she had thought; which is to say, at least she didn’t throw up all over the stage or something equally embarrassing. Gee commanded the room, which took Mikey by surprise. Her sister had always been on the quieter side, hanging on the edges of the room and nursing bottles of beers at parties rather than being the center of attention. Apparently, putting her on a stage and demanding everyone look at her yielded a very different Gee.
Or maybe they were both just wasted.
Either way, the party seemed to love their set. The crowd seemed to form together as one. When Gee told them to jump, they jumped. When Gee told them to raise their lighters, the room glowed orange. When Gee told them to scream at the top of their lungs, Mikey swore she could feel the floor shaking beneath her feet. Maybe it was all magnified in her head; there were only forty people there, at most. But it felt like they were selling out Madison Square Garden. It was electric, and she was still riding high.
Maybe that’s why she didn’t pull away when Frankie approached her.
She had been chatting up a sweet guy; he hadn’t heard of any of the bands performing, and judging by the way he didn’t have much to say about anything they had played, it really wasn’t his thing. But he was cute. He was charming. And he had pressed another beer into her hand and for Mikey. That was a good enough reason to get into his pants.
“Hey, Mikes,” Frankie slid her arm around her waist. The guy — Mark — arched his eyebrows in surprise. Almost like Frankie was famous. Maybe she would be, one day. Maybe he knew that much, at least. “Who’s your friend?”
“Mark.” Mikey introduced. “Uh, Mark, this Frankie Lero. Queen of the Basements. Well, after Rickly.”
The title earned a laugh out of Frankie. Which, by all accounts, wasn’t hard to do , but Mikey couldn’t help but feel a small rush of pride come and fill her.
“Hey, Mark,” Frankie extended her hand, bumping her fist against Mark’s. “I’m just gonna steal Mikey for a sec, if you don’t mind. Promise you’ll get your girl back.” she teased, before tightening her grip around Mikey’s hip and leading her away. They didn’t go far, just into the corner of the room where Frankie leaned against the wall and grinned lazily at her.
“You’re really making me regret takin’ Hambone, asshole.” Frankie’s voice was all amusement; Mikey rolled her eyes in response.
“I’m not better than Hambone. I can barely play the songs we have.” Immediately, Mikey wished she hadn’t admitted that. Her own words made her cheeks flush pink. She tried to hide it by taking a long drink of beer from her can.
“Barely? Please, who the fuck are you kidding? How quickly did you learn those, Mikeyway, because you blew it outta the fuckin’ water. You and Toro are fuckin’ brilliant together. Seriously.”
Mikey wasn’t so easily convinced; she assumed that wouldn’t surprise Frankie. She shrugged, leaning against the wall. “Ray, Gee, and Matt are really brilliant, yeah.” She was cool. She was calm. She was nonchalant, even. She hoped she had managed to convince Frankie of that. Frankie rolled her eyes, but she didn’t push the matter further.
“So, Mark—” Frankie hummed, glancing back towards him. He was standing in the same spot as before, looking at Mikey. Mikey didn’t bother with making eye contact. It wasn’t like he was worth her time if she was talking to Frankie instead. “Are you into him or something? Like are you going out?”
Mikey snorted a little laugh. “When have you ever known me to go out with someone, Frankie?” She pointed out, and shook her head. “I dunno. He’s cute. Seems eager to please.”
“Guys like that never make you cum.” Frankie said, very matter-of-factly.
“How do you know?” Mikey rolled her eyes. “Have you ever even slept with a dude?”
“Well, no.” Frankie clicked her tongue. “But there’s a good reason for that. Guys will never make you cum.”
Mikey tilted her head, arching her brows slightly. “You know, I have some previous experience that says otherwise.”
Frankie laughed again, and Mikey had to once more remind herself that making Frankie laugh was a given. She’d giggle about anything. It was hardly any achievement. “Okay but like, it’s definitely not as good of an orgasm as you’ve had with like, literally any girl, right?”
Mikey pretended to have to think about it. Frankie nudged her hard. “Bullshit.”
Mikey smirked a little, sipping lightly on her beer again. “I dunno. I don’t cum and tell.”
Frankie seemed to puzzle over the sentence, before leaning in closer to Mikey. “What if I can promise you a better time than Mark could?”
For the first time in her life; Mikey felt breathless. Like someone had actually charmed her enough to make goosebumps spread across both of her arms. It was a new experience; actually feeling
flustered
when someone propositioned her for sex. “Are you asking me to fuck you?”
Frankie shrugged. “In fewer words.”
And how the hell was Mikey supposed to say no to that?
---
It surprised herself to end up in the Pencey Prep van again. At least, it surprised her to be there without Shauna. More than that, she was surprised to be pressed under Frankie in the backseat - with Frankie’s hand under her shirt and groping at her breast. Of course, that didn’t stop her from arching up into her touch, or letting out breathy sighs when Frankie brushed her lips over the most sensitive parts of her neck.
“Shit!” she hissed quietly. “Don’t fuckin’ bite me.”
Frankie looked up towards her, a shit-eating grin on her face. “Sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry in the slightest, and Mikey was about to grumble that out, before Frankie’s lips were pressed back against her own. She felt Frankie’s tongue eager and insistent as she pressed back against her lips, and all of her protests melted away with a moan. Frankie’s hands slid around her back, unclasping the hook of her bra so she could slide her hands smoothly underneath the cups. Her palms were rough against her nipples, and Mikey moaned again. Sensitive, her hips bucked up towards her. She could feel Frankie grinning into the kiss.
“I see why you’re always disappearing into the backrooms.” Frankie noted, leaning back enough to pull off Mikey’s t-shirt and toss it aside, her bra wasn’t far behind. Frankie sat back on her hips and Mikey fought the urge to grind up against her. Frankie’s gaze was down on her tits, and then her mouth was there. The tip of her tongue was poking out to lick along her sternum.
“Are you calling me a whore?” Mikey grumbled, her fingers threaded through Frankie’s hair.
“Why? Are you into that?”
Mikey had to laugh at the remark. She rolled her eyes and tugged Frankie’s hair. “Shut the fuck up.” Frankie moaned and latched her mouth onto Mikey’s nipple.
“You’re gorgeous,” Frankie murmured. Goosebumps rose along Mikey’s spine, and Frankie smoothed them back out with her fingers. She hummed around her tit, her hands coming down to grab her ass, squeezing over her jeans. Mikey pressed up against her—grinding needily against Frankie’s hip. It wasn’t a lot of friction, but it was better than nothing. Frankie grinned to herself, gripping her ass to help guide the movement of her hips. Mikey let out another moan, biting her lip to try and keep it contained; she hated the way Frankie smirked. But she didn’t hate the way she rutted down against her.
With Frankie’s mouth still sucking on her nipple, and the tip of her tongue circling the nub, Mikey almost didn’t notice the way Frankie’s hands moved - sliding over her hips, towards her crotch, where a flick of her thumb popped open the button of her jeans. “This okay?” Frankie lifted her head off enough to speak. Mikey huffed, lifting her hips up. Frankie laughed softly. “Alright, alright.” She tugged the too-tight jeans down off of her hips. All that was left between them was a pair of thin cotton panties: Dark against Mikey’s pale skin, frayed around the waistband, sticking to her wet pussy. Frankie licked her lips. “Fuckin’ shit, Mikes. You’re soaked.”
Mikey rolled her eyes, bucking her hips as Frankie’s thumb teased over her pussy, Sliding over her underwear and just between her labia. The touch barely pressed against her clit - despite Mikey’s attempts to change that. Frankie’s other hand pressed her hips down into the seat, forcing her still. “Take it easy,” Frankie murmured, leaning in to kiss at her neck again. “I got you.”
“Then fuckin’ hurry up.” Mikey complained, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. Frankie laughed as she sucked on her neck this time, undoubtedly determined to leave bruises in her wake. But she was still all too gentle where Mikey needed her right now. Her thumb tracing in an 8-pattern up and down along her wet panties; enough to feel, but not enough to get off. “Frankie-” Mikey let out a while; needier than she wanted to sound. She didn’t need to open her eyes to picture the smirk on Frankie’s lips.
“Yeah?” Frankie hummed. She stilled her thumb - pressing just underneath her clit. Her other hand pressed tighter down on her hips, stopping Mikey from moving before she could even try. “You want somethin’, Mikes?”
She did. She really, really did. “C’mon, just tell me.” Frankie continued. She pressed her thumb harder. Mikey wanted to scream. “Tell me what you want, Mikey.”
“I want you to shut the fuck up-” Mikey opened her eyes, seeing Frankie open her mouth, clearly, about to rebuttal, before Mikey continued to speak over her. “And get your mouth on me right now.”
Frankie grinned. “Mikey, my mouth was on you.” She giggled; pressing her lips back onto her neck - kissing and licking at a bruise she had left there. Mikey shivered. “Right here…” She kissed her way back down to Mikey’s tit, circling her tongue around her nipple. “And right here.”
Mikey’s fingers were still wound into her hair, and started to push her head downwards. Frankie glanced up towards her. “Hm? Not there?” She shifted, kissing over her other tit. “What about here?”
“Are you this annoying with everyone you fuck?” Mikey had to ask, gently nudging her head again. Frankie laughed brightly at that; a warm smile on her face. Mikey pretended like the sound didn’t fill her stomach with butterflies.
“Only the prettiest girls,” Frankie cooed, and Mikey continued to pretend. She regretted the laugh that slipped out of her when Frankie blew a raspberry against her sternum.
“Frankie, c’mon.”
Frankie kissed her chest still; her movements soft and slow. Affectionate. Reverent. Her thumb had begun to move again, the same insistent pattern as before that was slowly beginning to drive Mikey mad. Was it possible to cum without even getting her clit touched? Because it really felt like she was about to be the first to do it. “Just wanna hear you say it,” Frankie said into her skin. Her tongue darted out to lick at her collarbone. Mikey couldn’t think.
“Say what,” Mikey whined, her head tossed back. Her back arched, but her hips were still firmly pressed down by Frankie’s stupid hand. It barely occurred to her then that Frankie was still fully dressed, too. Fully dressed and driving her fully insane.
“What you want me to do to you,” Frankie answered easily, and there were her teeth too. Dragging down over the skin of her breast, only to stop just before her nipple, where she kissed the nub, still sensitive from before.
Mikey took a deep breath. She tried to center herself between Frankie’s mouth, Frankie’s hands, the fluttering in her stomach, and the way that her head was spinning. She had to wonder if Frankie knew how badly she really was affecting her, or if she was better at hiding it than she thought. That train of thought presented another problem though — if Frankie thought this was just a hookup, did that mean Mikey would never get to be pressed beneath her again? Normally, she didn’t care. Girls, guys, whoever wanted her; she was perfectly fine to spend fifteen, maybe twenty minutes pressed up against someone in the bathroom of Gabbie Saporta’s basement, it was enough to get off, and get out, and not have to worry about seeing someone again. Maybe then, she shouldn’t rush with Frankie - in case this was going to be the last time she got to sleep with her. It’d be a shame to have it over too soon.
“I want you to eat me out,” she finally managed to get out, her voice raw from swallowing down moans. “Please.”
That was the magic word. Frankie sat up between her legs, and tugged her underwear off. Mikey nearly kicked her in the face as she kicked up her legs to actually get them off, dropped on the floor of the van. Mikey briefly thought about purposely leaving them there, before getting worried that Hambone or Shauna might find them first.
Besides, Frankie finally dropped her head down where Mikey wanted her. That tongue finally pressing against her clit. The noise she made — caught between a gasp and a moan — might’ve embarrassed her had it not been for Frankie moaning back at her. Both of Mikey’s hands slid into her hair, holding her tight against her pussy. It wasn’t like Frankie was trying to get away, though. Her hands gripped tightly at Mikey’s hips, her nails digging perfectly into her skin. Mikey already imagined herself brushing her fingers over the marks Frankie left while she pressed her own fingers —
As if she could read her mind, Frankie was pressing two fingers into her pussy. Her tongue focused in on her clit, while the pads of her fingers curled up — rubbing against her pubic bone. Mikey moaned out loud again. “Fuck, Frankie — ” She tugged on her hair again; sweat rapidly beginning to shine on her skin as she rocked her hips down and then back up again, torn between chasing Frankie’s fingers or her mouth.
Frankie easily found her rhythm. Guitarist that she was, she knew exactly what to do with her fingers inside of Mikey — thrusting them at just the right speed, in just the right place that left her head spinning. It was easy to get lost in the sensations of it all. Her moans mingled in with Frankie’s, filling the van and echoing perfectly around them. Mikey really didn’t want it to end, but before she knew it, her orgasm was creeping up on her — and Frankie was just too perfect with her mouth, sucking just right on her clit, and her fingers brushing over and over at that place inside of her that made it so hard to just hold back-
Her orgasm washed over her in waves — with Frankie’s only warning being Mikey’s rising moans and near-hair tearing grip in her hair.. Her whole body shivered in relief, but Frankie didn’t relent in the slightest; not until Mikey was panting above her and her thighs had begun to twitch on either side of her head. Slowly, Frankie pulled her fingers out and lifted her head to rest on the pointed edge of Mikey’s hipbone. She lazily sucked her fingers clean as she looked up at her. “Good?”
Mikey, again, felt herself laughing. She couldn’t think of another time someone had made her laugh so much during sex. Nor, did she think she’d like it so much. “Shut up.” Mikey tugged her hair again, pulling Frankie up into a kiss. Frankie went easily, pressing her weight against Mikey as Mikey slid her tongue into her mouth.
Mikey wasn’t exactly known for reciprocation; but the last thing she wanted right now was to leave this van, to leave Frankie. “You know,” Frankie spoke into her mouth, relatively cooperative as Mikey’s hands pushed under her shirt and attempted to tug it off of her. She shook out her hair once Mikey finally had it tossed aside. “I’ve never been told to shut up this much during sex.”
“Are you usually this fucking talkative?” Mikey asked, her nails dragging down Frankie’s back, and her leg hooking around her waist. Frankie did her the courtesy of pressing a denim clad thigh between Mikey’s legs. Apparently, she didn’t care about getting cum on her thigh, and Mikey didn’t care about putting it there. She went to grind against her; and hissed at the feeling of the rough fabric against her still sensitive clit. She didn’t stop, though.
“Oh, always.” Frankie insisted, biting lightly at Mikey’s neck. “‘Cept it’s usually telling the girls how fuckin’ gorgeous they are… How they look so pretty on my fingers… Or how good their fingers feel… How good they taste. ” Mikey shivered hard. “Or maybe how pretty they are when they’re desperate.”
“What makes me different?” Mikey asked, her breathing uneven again. She bit down on her own lip, trying hard not to moan out from Frankie just talking. But it was hard. Even harder when her stupid thigh pressed harder against her aching clit. Mikey had to rut against it.
“You’re Mikey Fuckin’ Way.” Frankie answered easily. As if that meant anything. Mikey scoffed. She dragged her hands back up Frankie’s back, and around again to squeeze her tits — which felt far too soft. Mikey blinked, pulling Frankie’s bra down by the cups - away from her body. Stuffed under her tits were a couple pairs of socks. It took Mikey a moment to process why and when she did, she laughed out loud.
“Fucking seriously?” Mikey asked her, reaching around to undo her bra, tossing it and the socks away. Frankie’s cheeks were flushed red, and Mikey wasn’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or arousal. “You stuff your bra?”
“Fuck off.” Frankie responded, biting back down on Mikey’s neck, pressing harder against her pussy; the efforts to distract her were only semi-effective. “You’re one to talk. Your tits are smaller than mine.” Frankie grumbled.
Mikey huffed, pinching one of Frankie’s nipples between her fingers. “At least I don’t pretend that they’re bigger,” she argued. Frankie whined high in her throat, and bucked her hips forward. Then, in a rare moment of gentleness, Mikey sighed softly, dragging Frankie up into another hard kiss on the lips. “You’re fuckin’ hot, Frankie,” she assured her softly.
Frankie smiled again, and Mikey relaxed. She squeezed her boobs in her hands, relishing the feeling of it, before sliding her hands down her stomach. She reached her jeans, undoing the front of them and trying to push them down. Frankie helped then, at least, actually lifting herself off of Mikey enough to kick off her pants and underwear into a pile on the floor. She climbed back onto Mikey, straddling her thigh and pressing her own against Mikey’s pussy. Frankie held Mikey by the hips, before rolling her hips down against her. “Fuck.”
Fuck was a good way to describe it - Mikey whimpered out, arching her hips up to meet the roll of Frankie’s hips. She tensed up her thigh - pressing firmly up against her, trying to provide her as much friction as she could. But Frankie pressed her hips down again. “You’re so pretty,” Frankie breathed out between moans. “So fuckin’ pretty, Mikey. Shit. You’re still so wet.” Frankie started talking; and by the look on her face, she wasn’t going to stop soon. “Are you gonna cum again? Gonna make yourself cum against me? Fuck, does that feel good? Because you feel so fuckin’ good for me right now, Mikey.”
She was addicted to the way Frankie said her name. She was obsessed with the way Frankie moaned. The way she rocked down against her—adjusting her hips to grind herself just right against the muscle in her thigh. It was like Frankie was just using her to get off. And fuck, if it meant Mikey got to cum again too, like hell was she going to complain. Her hands slid back up to grip Frankie’s tits, grinding her palms against her nipples.
Frankie shuddered under her touch - arching her back and pushing her chest out into her hands. “Yeah-” Frankie whimpered. She was biting her lip so hard, Mikey was almost worried she was going to bleed. “Yeah, that feels so good.” Frankie nodded to herself, shutting her eyes and furrowing her brow. Mikey couldn’t stop staring at her. Every piece of her was so beautiful. The butterflies settled back into her stomach. Her hips bucked up against Frankie’s. “That’s so good,” Frankie continued. “Mikey, baby, fuck, you’re so fucking hot. So good to me. Making me feel so fucking good. You’re so pretty. Your pussy’s so fucking perfect, baby. You feel so perfect.”
“M’close—” Mikey warned her this time; her thigh beginning to tremble under Frankie’s weight. Frankie nodded, opening her eyes as she looked back down at Mikey. She slid her hands up from her hips, cupping Mikey’s tits instead.
“Yeah, baby. S’okay. Cum for me. You’ve been so good. So fuckin’ gorgeous.” Frankie breathed out; and Mikey gasped quietly. Her back arched up as her orgasm took her, leaving her breathless and shaky beneath Frankie. And Frankie wasn’t far behind her - her nails digging into the soft skin of her breast as she grinded down hard on Mikey, biting her lip to muffle her moans as she finally came over her thigh. Mikey was just catching her breath as Frankie was bucking through the aftershocks. She wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close to lay down, and smoothing her fingers over her hair. Frankie went willingly, settling to lay between her legs, her face tucked comfortably against Mikey’s neck. Fingers more delicate than Mikey imagined trailed up and down the subtle curve of her waist. Frankie’s breathing slowly settled, and they both fell quiet.
Mikey was okay with the quiet, though. It was easier to memorize the way Frankie fit against her without Frankie talking. She could focus on the way her warmth filled her up completely. She could commit the feeling of their sticky, sweaty bodies pressing together without anything between them. She could focus shamelessly on the way she didn’t want to be anywhere else; or with anyone else.
After a couple of minutes, Frankie sat up slowly. She pushed her hair back. “You want a smoke?” She offered - reaching for her jeans on the ground. She pulled out a crumpled cigarette box and lighter coated in stickers. She held one between her teeth, before offering the box out to Mikey.
Mikey nodded, sitting up slowly. She reached for her t-shirt, pulling it back over her head, before she accepted a cigarette. She held it in her lips and Frankie lit her own smoke before she leaned over, pressing the end of her cigarette to Mikey’s until it lit.
“You really did good out there tonight. With your band,” Frankie said suddenly. It threw Mikey off. Her cheeks flushed a little pink. “I know I said that already but… You really impressed me out there. Your whole band did.”
Mikey was quiet for a moment, nodding. “Thank you,” she said finally, exhaling a puff of smoke. “It was really cool to let us play with you guys tonight.” She ducked her head, her free hand fiddling with the end of her shirt.
Frankie was quiet for a moment longer; almost long enough for the silence to stretch awkwardly. “We should do this again sometime,” Frankie added, motioning vaguely between the two of them. “If you promise not to laugh at my tits.”
Mikey grinned. “I wasn’t laughing at your tits. I was laughing at you. ”
“Same difference.” Frankie was smiling then, at least. “But, you would like… Wanna do this again sometime, yeah?”
It wasn’t the first time Mikey had been asked that question. She didn’t know it’d be the last time she got asked, either. Because, for the first time, she nodded. “Yeah.” Mikey chewed her lip. “Yeah. I’d like that.”