Work Text:
“Psst. Peter!” You whisper shouted across the room trying to get your friend’s attention.
He flipped his head around and leaned back in his seat, balancing on the chair’s two back legs. “What’s up, hun? You tired of studying already?”
Walking over towards the desk where he was reading, you continued to whisper. “I’m not tired of studying, I just don’t want to study.” You grabbed ahold of his hand, trying to pull him out of the seat, “C’mon, let’s go do something fun.”
“We just got here though, and we have that O-Chem presentation due next week. Come sit at my table and we can work on it together.” He grabbed your hand and gave it a light squeeze, “Just for an hour, and then we can go do something else.”
“Alright, I guess another hour won’t hurt.”
---
Leaving the library, you were met with the bright winter sun, frostbitten air, and snowy trees. Washington Square Park was uncharacteristically quiet and empty as people gathered in their homes to avoid the cold. You were bundled up in a thick black coat, wearing dark-colored jeans, a cream turtleneck, and your favorite boots. Your mind was clouded and slow from rushing to finish your project within the hour. In addition to having to do O-Chem at eight in the morning, you were running on only three hours of sleep thanks to some idiot that decided to trigger the fire alarm in your building last night.
The cold, dry wind seemed to attack you from all angles and had your teeth chattering after only a minute. Even hiding behind the columns of Bobst Library, the wind continued steadily. Peter stood beside you, significantly less affected by the weather despite only wearing sweatpants, a hoodie, and Converse. You always suspected that Peter’s immunity to the cold was due to the radioactive spider bite, but he insisted that it was just because he grew up in New York.
Noticing your chattering teeth and trembling body, Peter pulled you in for a hug. He rested his head upon yours, sheltering it from the cold. A sigh of relief escaped your mouth as your cheeks absorbed the warmth radiating from his chest. Basking in Peter’s enveloping warmth, you mentally decided: This kid is definitely radioactive. Frankly, there was no other way to explain how he was so warm while only wearing two layers in the New York Winter.
He brushed your hair lightly as you snuggled into his chest, still standing in front of the library’s entrance, “Is your roommate around? My roommate and I got into an argument last night so I don’t want to go back to my dorm, but I don’t want to intrude if she’s there.”
“No, she’s been staying with her girlfriend all week. Apparently, they got back together after Flash’s party…” your voice trailed off as your exhaustion took over, even your body went slightly limp.
“Do you want me to carry you, princess? I can tell that you’re pretty tired.”
“Yes please.” You unraveled your arms from his chest and hooked them around his neck.
Peter lifted you up gently and you wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing him tightly. You closed your eyes and rested your head against his shoulder as he began walking. If any other person had offered to carry you in the snow (especially in Converse), you would have said no. But with Peter’s supernatural strength, agility, and reflexes, you felt perfectly safe in his embrace.
---
You woke up still feeling slightly groggy, lounging in the beanbag chair next to your desk. Looking around, you saw Peter sprawled on his back, awkwardly occupying the small space between your bed and your roommate’s. He wasn’t necessarily asleep, but he wasn’t awake either. You slid down the beanbag, only your shoulders remaining on it, as you tried to kick Peter’s foot. Before you could even reach him, the harsh crinkling of the beanbag got his attention, and he propped himself up on his elbows.
“Sleep well?”, he spoke in a groggy voice.
“Depends, what time is it?”
He glanced at the Transformers watch that you forced him to wear after he lost a bet, “Almost noon. So you basically slept for two and a half hours, almost three.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna say that I slept well then.” Your stomach rumbled and you looked down, letting out a soft chuckle. “Wanna grab a bite real quick?”
Peter raised a crooked eyebrow at you, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
You walked in silence towards your favorite taco spot near campus, your arm linked with Peter’s. He held you close to him as you texted your roommate, making sure that you didn’t slip, trip, or Blip.
You: Hey, Riva… Do you mind if Peter stays in your bed tonight? I’ll wash the sheets and change them.
Riva: Sorry, but that’s my bed and I’m not letting your pseudo boyfriend sleep in it. He either sleeps in your bed or on the floor. It’s nothing against him, or you, but that’s my safe space and I don’t feel comfortable sharing it.
You: Okay, thanks. I totally get that, I’ll figure something out. Lmk when you’re coming back so I can clean my side.
Riva: I gotta talk to Miriam first but I’ll let you know when I decide.
You: Sounds good… stay safe :)
Riva: You too <3
You pocketed your phone and looked up at Peter, “She said no… at least no to you borrowing her bed.”
“That’s okay, hun. I can find somewhere else to crash.”
“Are you sure? I feel bad–”
Peter unintentionally cut you off, “It’s okay, don’t worry about me. Worst comes to worst, I could always crash at the Stark building.”
---
That was the last time you talked to Peter, three weeks ago. You two went different ways after getting tacos that day and Peter offered to do the O-Chem presentation alone after you caught a cold. Now, even though you walked into class every day hoping to see him, he was nowhere to be found. It made no sense, that was one of his favorite classes and he just stopped showing up. A part of you longed to text him and ask “Where’ve you been, Parker?” but you knew better. The problem wasn’t that Peter had disappeared, necessarily; the problem was that he seemed to be avoiding you.
The issue was that despite not showing up to O-Chem, you still saw Peter walking around campus, his hands all over the engineering department’s newest transfer– MJ. Occasionally, you would lock eyes with him across the hallway, across Washington Square Park, or across a lecture hall, but he would immediately look away. Frankly, it felt like he hated you. You didn’t know what happened, or what you did, to warrant this kind of reaction from Peter. During that last conversation as you went to get lunch, you were about to offer to let Peter share the bed with you, or at least the beanbag. You couldn’t tell if it was a good thing that you hadn’t offered, or if offering would have prevented this unhappy split.
---
You walked into a local doughnut shop, affectionately called the Doughnut Pub, and immediately came face to face with MJ. Or face to back as she stood in front of you in the queue. You rocked back and forth on your heels, suddenly feeling uneasy and out of place. But, in desperate need of coffee and sugar, you stayed. You looked down at your shoes and fiddled with your keychain, waiting for MJ to order and leave. Unfortunately, that’s not what she did.
MJ grabbed her order and moved to sit down at one of the stools along the balcony. She pulled out her phone, seemingly texting someone. Soon after, while the workers were preparing your coffee, Peter walked in. You looked at him intently, but he avoided you like always. He turned his head away, walking quickly towards MJ with his eyes to the ground.
You were rightfully annoyed and took your coffee and doughnuts, storming out. There was a small courtyard nearby with benches and you instinctively walked there, not even stopping to think. You sat down, eating alone on one of the snowy benches. A quickly melting layer of ice began to permeate your jeans, leaving your legs soggy and numb, but your stubborn nature prevented you from moving until you had finished your snack. You savored each sweet bite of your doughnut, washing it down with hot black coffee. You almost never ordered plain black coffee, disliking the bitter taste, but you were too busy worrying about MJ and Peter to choose anything else. Only a minute before you intended to leave, someone sat beside you. You glanced over, recognizing the distinct tattoos that covered this stranger’s hands. Those tattooed, slender, and ring-laden hands held you up all throughout your toughest times in high school; you could never forget them.
“Tommy?” You looked up at your old friend, eyes wide with happiness.
“I knew it was you! How’ve you been, darlin’?” Tommy punched your arm playfully.
You felt blood rushing into the apples of your cheeks, hoping the sudden blush would be disguised by your windburned skin. Tommy had a habit of calling you sweet nicknames and his sultry tone always made your heart skip a beat. “I-I’ve been better. I think that much is obvious. People who are doing well don’t normally sit alone on wet, icy benches, do they?”
“That they don’t, love. What’s going on, though? Last I heard, you were livin’ the dream up here in New York.”
“Well, that’s why they call it a dream, Tommy. Dreams have to end eventually. I just wasn’t expecting mine to end with my only friend at NYU ditching me for some transfer.”
“Good thing I’m here then. With your real best friend here, you won’t have to worry about that loser anymore.”
Tommy slid an arm around your shoulders slyly, rubbing your arm affectionately, “Thanks, Tommy. What are you even doing here?” a defensive undertone tinged your words, “Sorry, that sounded rude, but like how did you end up here?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked. I’ve got so much to tell you. First, though, let’s get somewhere warmer and dryer, I don’t want my best friend to catch a cold.” He helped you up and you began guiding him to the first place that came to mind, the library.
---
You and Tommy sat down in the library at one of the smaller tables in a corner hidden behind some bookshelves. He helped you out of your coat and folded it for you, hanging it on the back of your chair. There was a comfortable silence between you both. You were in no rush, just focusing on warming up.
“I missed you so much,” Tommy said suddenly, breaking the silence. “And when I got an offer to transfer to my office’s Manhattan branch, it just seemed like the right thing to do. I know it’s sudden, and that I probably should’ve told you I was in town, but I wanted to plan something special before telling you… I didn’t know I’d run into you so soon though. That was a pleasant surprise.”
You were absolutely dumbfounded by Tommy’s admission. “Oh my gosh.”
“I hope you don’t mind.” He looked down at his hands.
“‘Mind’? Tommy, are you kidding me? Of course, I don’t mind! You couldn’t have possibly come here at a better time.” You felt your heart twist, despite the truth behind your words, your heart still ached. You would have no need for Tommy’s comfort if Peter hadn’t abandoned you. And as much as you loved Tommy, your love for him was nothing compared to the buried feelings you harbored for Peter.
Tommy took your cold hands in his and lifted his head, looking at you with a smile on his face. “I’m glad to hear that! What do you say we head out and do something fun tonight? Doesn’t that sound good?”
“That sounds great, but you’re gonna have to do all of the planning. This calculus class I’m in is kicking my ass.”
You and Tommy spent the rest of the night together. After taking you shopping at a few local boutiques, he treated you to a five-star meal. When he first started at his job, two years ago, he never would have been able to afford a meal like that, but his transfer must have come with a hefty raise. The half-a-dozen years of friendship that you shared with Tommy were all brought back in one night. It was like experiencing your relationship in a whole new light. You shared Caprese while talking about your greatest dreams, downed a bottle of wine while reminiscing, and teared up while eating chocolate cake. Though you hated the reality of it, a part of you was beginning to realize that maybe your attraction to Tommy was slightly romantic.
To finish off the night, you both headed back to his new apartment to watch a movie. With most other guys you would worry that an invitation to their apartment meant that they expected something more, but with Tommy, you felt comforted that a movie just meant a movie. He opened the door for you and allowed you to enter first. As you walked through the barren entryway, it revealed a cluttered living room covered with boxes. In the middle, there was an awkwardly positioned sectional couch facing a flatscreen television on the wall. Around the feet of his couch, crumpled papers, empty coffee cups, and wads of tape occupied the floor. None of this surprised you. Tommy was never great at keeping his spaces clean and on top of that, he had just moved in.
Tommy rushed up behind you as soon as he had locked the door and began reaching for the scattered trash, “Sorry for the mess, I didn’t know I’d be running into you today. Much less having you over.”
“Don’t worry about it, you just moved in. I wasn’t expecting your apartment to look like the cover photo of an Architectural Digest magazine.”
He chuckled at your joke, “Well still, I really am sorry for the mess.”
Tommy guided you to the couch where he let you take the best spot and handed you a blanket. You kicked off your shoes, shrugged off your coat, and laid back, swinging your feet onto the sofa. He disappeared around the corner and yelled out to you, “I’m just gonna make some popcorn, but feel free to turn on the TV and find something to watch!”
You grabbed the remote control and turned on the television, trying to figure out how to navigate it. Eventually, around the time you began hearing popping coming from the kitchen, you had found Netflix. Frankly, there weren’t many movies that you wanted to watch, not any new ones at least, so you decided to pick one of your old favorites. Not really knowing why you loved this movie so much, you chose The Theory of Everything . From behind the kitchen wall, you could hear that Tommy was just pouring the popcorn into bowls and you decided to start the movie. He came in soon after, not missing anything. Tommy sat beside you and handed you a bowl of hot popcorn. You felt a type of peace that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You watched the screen intently, only breaking your gaze occasionally when you dropped a kernel of popcorn. The two of you were enveloped in a comfortable silence that was only interrupted by sniffles and crunching. It went on like this until the end of the film, the silence growing greater with each minute. Tommy had fallen sound asleep and you did not want to wake him so you found a small pad of sticky notes and a pen and left your new number for him to text you when he woke up.
You returned to your dorm, walking quietly, but still vigilant. New York was a crazy place and you never knew what might happen, especially in the dark. Only a block away from your building, you heard a peculiar wooshing sound. You stopped, eyes peeled, and looked around. Despite the vivid sound you heard only seconds before, there was no one near you. Confused but relieved, you continued walking. Your shoes crunched on the snow and every step was precarious.
Suddenly, just as the first sound, you heard it again. This time it was much louder and seemingly closer. You stopped again yet the area surrounding you seemed to be empty. Turning around once more, you jumped. Peter, or Spider-Man, was standing right in front of you.
You had no idea what to feel. He obviously knew that it was you, but what possible reason could he have for creeping up on you so randomly?
With an annoyed tone, you asked Peter, “What do you want?”
“I’m sor–”
You cut him off, “You don’t get to be sorry, Peter. You don’t get to apologize because I don’t want to forgive you. I can’t. Not yet at least.”
Peter waved his arms frantically in the air, trying to keep you from walking away. You pushed past him and went anyway.
He ran up behind you, grabbing your arm. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I know I messed up. I really don’t know what came over me. Really. And if you don’t want to talk to me, I totally understand, but please just let me apologize.”
“I don’t want to have this conversation right now. I’m tired and I have way too much to do. So, please just let me go, Peter. Please.”
His hand released its tight grip on your arm and you could sense his frown even from behind the mask. “At least let me walk you home. It’s the least I can do.”
“Fine. But no talking.”
He raised his arms in surrender, “Totally understood. Shutting up now.” He pretended to zip his mouth.
As agreed, you both walked to your building in silence. Uncomfortable tension built up between you like a fifty-foot concrete wall. Questions nagged and begged to be answered, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Why MJ? Why not talk to me? Why all of the avoidance? Did I do something? Did he and MJ break up? Is that why he wants to come crawling back to me? Because he’s lonely and broken-hearted? I don’t need him. I have Tommy and Riva and I’m sure I could name more people if I weren’t so pissed right now.
You stopped abruptly, only meters from your front door, and turned to face Peter, “Why did you do it? I mean, I’ve gone over this in my head a million times and it never makes sense. I have gone through every possibility, every variable, literally everything. And I just, I can’t figure out why or how this happened.”
You choked on the last word, a tear rolling from your eye.
“I don’t know,” he looked at the ground. “You didn’t deserve that. I got so caught up with this stupid little crush and I ignored the best person I know, just to find out that MJ doesn’t even believe in the concept of romantic relationships. I’m sorry, I’m genuinely so sorry. I know words will never make up for how stupid I was, but I still hope that we can still be friends.”
“We’ll always have the possibility of friendship, I just don’t know if that’s the right thing for us at the moment. You messed up and you owned up to it, which is really great, but I need to know that it won’t happen again. I need to know that you’re not just coming back to me because MJ friend-zoned you. And until I know that, Peter, I can’t be your friend. So, find some way in that weird, contorted mind of yours to prove that to me. Then, maybe we can be friends again. Who knows?”
You walked further into the doorway, resting your hand gently on the keypad, and looked back at Peter with sadness in your eyes. He met your gaze, parting his lips as if he wanted to speak, but he remained stunned and silent. You turned away from him, inputting your code and pushing the door open with your shoulder. A part of you wanted to linger in the doorway, say one last word to Peter, or even wait for him to say the last word, yet you knew that you had already spared more of your time than he deserved.
Needing a way to get rid of the overwhelming emotions in your body, you chose to climb the stairs rather than take the elevator. Each step released a soft sigh, a sad thought, and soft pains through your legs. By the time you reached your floor, you were so focused on the soreness in your legs that you had forgotten about your run-in with Peter and only cared about getting to lay on your beanbag chair. You settled into its soft embrace and allowed sleep to take over your mind.
The next morning, all you could think about was Peter, though it was the last thing that you wanted to be thinking about. To take your mind off of the previous night’s interaction, you decided to walk to the Trader Joe’s in SoHo. You walked with your head down, letting the wind hit the top of your head and cool your thoughts. Every step was careful but fast and within fifteen minutes you were greeted by the large sliding doors.
You walked around mindlessly, filling your cart with items you would most likely put back before checking out. Before you knew it, your cart was full. There were boxes upon boxes of cake mixes, frozen foods, and snacks. Things you didn’t even like seemed to have ended up in there as well. For example, their horrid excuse of a knafeh had somehow appeared at the very top. Sighing, embarrassed by how well your idea to distract yourself had worked, you began to return items to their respective spots within the store. At the end of it all, you ended up with a measly three items to checkout. A can of Snack Bar Mix, a box of berries, and some peach yogurt. You checked out and walked back home, taking your time since it was still cold out and you knew the yogurt and berries wouldn’t go bad. Once you arrived back, treasuring the warm air of your building’s lobby, you took the stairs up once more.
Arriving at your door, you twisted the doorknob open, expecting an empty room, but in front of you, Tommy was sitting on the floor conversing with Riva. His back was facing you and he turned when he heard the door open. Excitement filled his eyes and he jumped up to greet you. Riva, on the other hand, remained seated and unfazed by your return. Waves of confusion flowed through your mind as you had not expected either of them to be in your dorm.
“Surprise!” Tommy exclaimed, “I was wondering when you might get back.”
“Well, I’m back now.” You spoke with words coated in suspicion and confusion as you walked towards Tommy. He filled the space between you and embraced you in a tight hug. From behind Tommy’s back, you met eyes with Riva signaling to her What is he doing in here? and Why didn’t you tell me Tommy was here?
Riva just shrugged her shoulders at you and giggled quietly as she watched Tommy’s embrace suffocate you. Slowly but surely, you snaked your way out of Tommy’s arms and held him away at an arm’s length. “So, Tommy, what brings you to our humble abode?”
“I was just in the area and wanted to surprise you so I DM’d Riva on Instagram and asked her if I could wait for you in here. I was also hoping that you might be free to go out to dinner later?”
You shot a deathly stare in Riva’s direction and replied, “That’s so sweet of you! Of course, I’d love to go out to dinner tonight.”
While you weren’t completely opposed to the idea of going out with Tommy, your recent interaction with Peter wouldn’t stop plaguing your mind. So despite the confidence in your voice when you agreed to Tommy’s request, seedlings of doubt began to sprout.
---
Later that night, Tommy met you in front of your building to walk with you to a nearby tapas restaurant. The air was still cold, the strong winds biting at your cheeks, and you huddled behind Tommy as you walked against the current. Your body was pressing up against his arm but something felt off. You had spent your childhoods together, day in and day out, yet you had never felt so uncomfortable near him. It was tempting to ignore the feeling, attributing it solely to the years you had spent apart. But as the night droned on and you found yourself curled up next to him on his couch watching The Dead Poet’s Society , you realized that there were some feelings that just could not be ignored. Feelings like the love you had for Peter and the love he had for you. Tommy would always be a part of your life, just not in the way that you needed Peter to be.
You slowly slipped your phone into your pocket and slid yourself out from under Tommy’s arm. You excused yourself and rushed off to the bathroom, locking the door and sitting with your back against it. Your fingers tangled in your hair, pulling against your scalp as you buried your face against your knees. All you wanted to do right now was text Peter, telling him you forgave him, but you knew that letting him off that easily would never end well. So instead, you sat and stared at your bright phone screen, scrolling through all of your past conversations with Peter. Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes grew heavy with sadness. Every text was so obviously flirty now that you looked back on them, but neither of you seemed to have noticed each other’s advances at the time. Your depressing scrolling was soon interrupted by three little bubbles appearing at the bottom left of your screen. Peter was typing. You waited patiently, each minute passing like torture, and every few seconds the bubble would disappear. Each time it did so, you felt a drop in your stomach, and every time it popped back up, your breath stopped.
It had been almost five minutes since Peter had started typing when Tommy came up to the bathroom door, knocking rapidly. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while and I think the movie’s almost over.”
You took a deep breath to neutralize the shaking in your voice, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just have a bit of an upset stomach from that ice cream. Go ahead and finish the movie without me, I already know what happens anyway.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. Don’t worry about me.”
“Okay, well let me know if you need anything.”
“I will…”
Tommy’s footsteps departed and your phone buzzed in your hand. You hadn’t even realized how tightly you were gripping the device until you looked down and noticed your fingers had turned a shade paler. Cautiously, you clicked on the message and began to read it.
Peter: Okay, so I’ve been thinking about how to apologize and I realized that what I thought was an apology was just me making excuses. I’ve said sorry, I’ve explained myself to you, but I haven’t shown you how I can change. And that’s where I went wrong. So, if you’re willing to give me another shot at your apology, meet me outside of the bookstore Monday at 11 am. I promise you won’t regret it.
In all honesty, you had expected a much longer message, but the mystery enticed you so you played along.
You: One shot, Parker. Don’t you dare be late.
Peter: Of course :)
You put your phone back in your pocket, sighing loudly, and splashed cold water on your face. Wiping away the water from your skin, your mind began to clear. You opened the bathroom door and tip-toed back over to the couch where Tommy was watching the final five minutes of the movie. His eyes were watery, as anyone’s would be, and he glanced up as you approached him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I just realized I gotta get home soon. I’m kind of tired and I still have lecture notes to go over.”
“Why don’t you just stay here? I just did laundry so the sheets are clean and there’s fresh towels too.”
As tempting as the offer was, you could sense that Tommy was attempting to imply something more. Something that you had no intention of ever experiencing with him. If Tommy didn’t want anything from you, he would have offered to take the couch. If he didn’t want anything from you, he wouldn’t have done laundry before inviting you over. If he didn’t want anything from you, he wouldn’t have held you the way he did. You knew that you were overthinking, but you trusted your intuition.
Tommy could tell, from the excessive amount of time that it was taking you to reply, that you had your doubts, “You know what, it’s okay. I’ll walk you home. C’mon.”
He turned off the TV and handed you your jacket which you put on quickly as you walked to the door. Tommy rested his hand on your back as you exited the apartment and continued to do so all the way down. You both walked silently, unnerving tension growing between you. Each step felt like a chore and only worsened the emotional turmoil in your mind.
Once Tommy dropped you off, he lingered. You peeked through the half-open blinds in your room and saw him still standing down below. He was sporting a bizarre expression on his face, one of disdain and exhaustion. It was an expression you had seen time and time again. Every time you went to a stupid frat party or club and turned down one of the idiots there, that was the face they made. But seeing this only increased your faith in your prior decision to leave Tommy’s house.
You turned away from the window and shut the blinds completely, basking you and your sleeping roommate in darkness. Much too tired to take a shower now, you decided to sleep on top of your blankets and shower the next morning instead. Your eyes grew heavy with each second and soon you had drifted off to sleep.
---
Nearly a week had passed since you agreed to meet Peter outside of the bookstore and you were worried that he might have forgotten. Still, you stuck to your alarm clock and got ready to go. You changed into your favorite jeans, a tank top, and slipped a black hoodie and jean jacket over it all. Putting on your Converse, you grabbed your phone and backpack, and left. The door locked behind you with a soft click that echoed through the hallway.
The walk to the bookstore was a quick one and you had arrived there withing less than 10 minutes. To your amazement, Peter was just rounding the corner and was on time. He waved at you from the end of the block with a giddy grin and you waved back, pretending to be unfazed.
Peter was not even ten feet away when he suddenly blurted out, “I really like you. I really do.”
The locals didn’t even bat an eye, but the kids on their NYU tours all stared at him, mouths gaping wide open in shock. You followed suit, not expecting him to start with that bold and direct admission.
You waited until Peter was closer to reply, “Jeez, Pete. What’s up with the huge announcement? Did you really need to tell that to everyone?”
A part of you was slightly embarrassed. You felt like you had been put on the spot.
“Sorry, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. I had to tell you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.” He stared at his feet and fiddled with his hands.
“No, no. Don’t get me wrong, I like you too. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that so loudly, and in front of everyone.”
“Yeah, I kinda regretted it as soon as I said it. There’s something about being judged by a hoard of highschoolers that just really gets to me.”
You chuckled, knowing how true that sentiment was for the both of you. “Well, I’m glad we finally got that out of the way. What now?”
“Wanna go for a swing?”
“I think I’d prefer to stay a bit closer to the ground if that’s alright with you, Spidey.”
“Oh right, my bad. Ummmm, how do you feel about motorcycles? May just bought one, I think she’s going through some sort of mid-life crisis and she said I could borrow it as long as I’m careful.”
“Sounds like a plan”