Chapter 46

"I'm not gonna understand a single word," grumbled Philip, as his eyes scoured for an open parking space. They'd just arrived from a leisurely dinner with the staff in the Kiriakis kitchens. Now, the school parking lot was bustling after twilight, as faculty, family, and students squeezed on campus for the opening night of Salem High's production of Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing."

Noting his slight scowl, Chloe smiled, "At least it's in English," remembering that magical night at the Met, "Just watch the actors and let the story carry you."

He released a slow breath and maneuvered his silver Audi sport convertible into a spot on the grass. With such a good turnout, surely Mimi wouldn't notice, if one or two of her friends were absent from the audience. It was one thing to watch his beloved Chloe, performing in a foreign tongue on stage. As if she sang only for him. But Mimi? Shakespeare? He sighed. The sacrifices one made in the name of friendship. Resigned, he switched off the ignition. "Well, here we are. Antiquity."

"You know," she chuckled, "One day, you just might find that Shakespeare comes in pretty handy."

"Mmm-hmm, right…" Tongue sarcastically in cheek, he jiggled his keys in his hand.

She shook her head in amusement. Well, she thought, showing's better than telling. She reached over to caress his cheek. "'I will live in thy heart…'" Leaning in, she pressed a feathery kiss to his lips. "'Die in thy lap…'" Her soft cheek glided over his, so she could speak into his ear. "'And be buried in thy eyes.'"

He felt his face warm and his mouth dry. "What does that mean?"

She nuzzled her nose against his and smiled. "Later."

"There's no time like the present," he grinned suggestively, letting his hand sneak up her ribcage.

She giggled and then kissed the tip of his nose. "Come on, Philip. We need to find everyone, not to mention our seats. The play starts in twenty minutes." With that, she pulled open the car door to step out.

He groaned in dramatics. Oh, well. Time to bite the bullet, he sighed, as he climbed out of the car. There were about a thousand things that he'd rather be doing right now. At the top of that list was "later." He sighed again. Tonight, he'd stay over at Chloe's. He'd fall asleep with her in his arms and wake to find her there, as well. If there were a more thrilling, more comforting thing, he didn't know of it.

Because, with her, he didn't have be the heir to a financial empire, reigning stud among his peers, or emotional go-between for his parents. He didn't have to be anything but what he was. Though, God knew what that was at this point. But with Chloe, he could just live in the moment and be. The car door closed with a smooth thud. It'd be hard to leave her early tomorrow morning to ride with his buddies down to Notre Dame. But he'd make the best of it and bring her something silly back from Indiana.

So, he absently activated the auto security system and rounded the trunk to join Chloe, strolling toward the crowded entrance. Their fingers intertwined naturally. She began to outline the basic storylines of "Much Ado." She knew that once her reluctant boyfriend let the lighthearted dialogue sink in, he'd laugh among the loudest in the audience.

"Hi, Chloe! Hi, Philip!" tweeted a cheerful voice.

The couple met their friends before the entrance. "Hi, Belle. Hi, Shawn."

"Oh, this'll be so great!" squealed Belle, "And Mimi looks so beautiful in her costume!"

As the girls broke off in their enthusiastic banter, the guys exchanged looks and rolled their eyes. "Hey, dude," said Philip, "You know how long this thing is gonna be?"

Shawn's face cringed. "Like three hours. Including intermission."

Philip sighed, while they somewhat glumly followed behind the chattering girls, squeezing through the mob.

"Don't worry, Phil," grinned Shawn, "Got you covered," and pulled out from his wide pant pocket a penlight clipped to a rolled up issue of the latest Sports Illustrated. Shawn had stashed these contrabands away, before his girlfriend could see them. A Brady could be quite resourceful, when cornered. Or forced to watch a bunch of guys in tights.

"Awesome!" exclaimed Philip in relief and threw an appreciative arm around Shawn's shoulders, "Did I ever tell you that you're my hero?"

Shawn chuckled, but quickly secreted the magazine behind his back, when their curious girlfriends turned to see what was all the hubbub. The boys' faces contorted into their most angelic expressions. The petite blonde and leggy brunette cocked suspicious brows. The males sighed in relief, when the girls resumed their conversation.

Shawn turned back to his buddy, "Anyhow, Jase said to keep a lookout for the part, when guys gallop around on imaginary horses. That's supposed to be a riot."

"Where is Mr. Shakespeare, anyway?"

"Said he had some stuff to do first, but told us to save him a seat."

"Excuse us," mumbled Philip, as he and his friends side-shuffled over seated people toward five open seats in the ninth row from stage. The auditorium was rapidly filling to capacity. "How's Jase supposed to find us in this?"

"Got that covered, too," answered Shawn. From his other pant pocket, he pulled out a brand new, gleaming white baseball cap. "Salem University" was emblazoned across the front. "Dad got me this the other day," explained Shawn, while he pulled on the cap with the bill behind. His mother would not be happy, if she knew that he intentionally had a hat on inside. But this seemed like the most unobtrusive way to get their friend's attention.

Shifting nervously in his seat, Philip made a point not to look at Shawn's bright cap. He didn't need any more reminders about the future.

After Shawn plopped down in his seat, he looked around for Jason. Then, he smiled in reassurance across the way to Belle, who pouted at their seating arrangements. Somehow, Chloe and Philip were seated in between them. Nevertheless, the boys were happy that they could peruse their magazine in relative peace.

"Hey, look," said Belle, pointing to the front row. "It's Mimi's family." She could see Mimi's little brother squirming already in his seat.

"And Mrs. Horton," added Chloe, who spotted the silver-haired matriarch, carrying on an animated conversation with Mimi's mother.

"Oh, that's so sweet that she came, too," smiled Belle.

Chloe felt a similar smile spread across her lips, as well. How something so simple as giving time could mean so much. She reached over and covered Philip's hand with hers. He looked down at the sight and flashed her a dimpled grin. Then, he ran a thumb over her knuckles, before he turned back to grunting with his buddy. Chloe sighed, realizing even more so now how important it'd been to Philip that she'd been to his games. As far as she knew, his parents had never seen a game this year. In contrast, Craig and Nancy attended every one of her recitals and were constantly looking into music camps and programs that might interest her. Until now, she'd taken that for granted.

"Whoa, Jase," chuckled Shawn, bringing her out of her ponderings.

"I guess we don't have to ask who those are for," teased Philip.

The girls turned to welcome their friend, but instead sighed in unison.

Jason, on the other hand, bore undeniably flushed cheeks. He quickly sat himself in the empty chair beside Shawn and his bright cap. Jason tucked the exploding bouquet of flowers on his lap. It'd been a whim. He was picking up the final parts for his truck, when he passed a little flower stand with a fragrant arrangement of pinks, golds, and reds. The colors weren't exactly subtle. But neither was she. Particularly when she was pissed. At him. Which up until now was pretty often. All the same, the mushy display embarrassed the hell out of him. "Hey, guys," he managed in his best attempt at nonchalance.

"Oh, Jason," crooned Belle, misty-eyed at the wisteria, which peeked out from under the armrest, "That's so sw-"

"Great that you made it," Chloe quickly cut in, "This crowd is pretty impressive." If the boy turned any redder, he just might go into cardiac arrest.

"Yeah," replied Jason, clearing his throat and trying to gather his composure, "Had to park a block back."

"So," grinned Philip, "I guess this means there's some stiff competition for King and Queen of the Last Blast this year, eh, Jase?"

His friend gave an audible sigh of relief, when the lights flickered, signaling the imminent start of the performance. After the audience quieted and the last few stragglers gained their seats, a distinguished-looking gentleman strolled out to the microphone positioned on center stage before the closed velvet curtain.

"Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen," he greeted, "My name is Kenneth Branagh and I am the drama instructor here at Salem Senior High School. In addition to teaching, I have also had the privilege of directing this talented ensemble of actors in this delightful comedy, written by William Shakespeare."

His voice modified to a wistful quality. "Let us transport ourselves to a wondrous villa nestled in the lush Spanish countryside. The place is called Messina. Don Pedro, Prince of Arragon, returns from the wars with his esteemed soldiers. Among them are the Prince's friends, Count Claudio and Signior Benedick, who happily accept the invitation of the Prince's dear friend, Signior Leonato, to stay at the villa for the month. However, Claudio finds himself taken with Leonato's daughter, Hero, while Benedick engages in a verbal battle of wits with Leonato's niece and Hero's cousin, the fiery Lady Beatrice. Meanwhile, there is treachery afoot."

He swept a graceful hand behind him. "And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, 'Much Ado About Nothing.'"

Polite applause sounded across the auditorium, as the director exited stage left.

Philip muttered to Chloe. "Ok… now who was who?"

She smiled and gave his cheek an affectionate peck, before the lights dimmed.

The romantic strums of a Spanish mandolin began. Then, the curtain parted and receded. And there seated barefoot and sprightly on a tree limb and dressed in a simple and pretty white dress was Mimi. The spotlight focused on her and her companions, picnicking and frolicking on the grass before her. In Mimi's hand was a bunch of green grapes and in the other an open book. "Sigh no more, ladies," she read with a joke in her tone, "Sigh no more, Men are deceivers ever." Her companions chuckled. Beatrice smiled and read on. "One foot in sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant never." Her friends laughed. "Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny; Converting all you sounds of woe Into…"

"Hey nonny, nonny!" finished her companions with her, having a jolly good time.

In the audience, Mimi's friends and family smiled, as the singing began. They remembered her studying so hard for her part, and now here she was. Captivating.

Jason watched, mesmerized. She was beautiful.

And so the play began.

After the initial frustration of trying to translate the weird English, while keeping up with the story, Philip and Shawn were quickly swept up. Particularly when Benedick went into his signature anti-marriage spiel. "That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks… But… all women shall pardon me… I will do myself the right to trust none… I will live a bachelor."

His friend and Prince laughed, "I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love."

Benedick scoffed, "With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord, not with love."

Philip chuckled. Dude, he thought with empathy, are you in for a shocker. He stole a glance at Chloe, whose big blue eyes were riveted on the stage and smile stretched from ear to ear. Yep, he grinned, love - like fate - had a funny way of blindsiding you. Thank God for it.

Chloe laughed, as later it was Beatrice's turn to declare eternal maidenhood. "He that hath a beard is more than a youth," stated Beatrice in her usual witty manner, "And he that hath no beard is less than a man: and he that is more than a youth, is not for me; and he that is less than a man, I am not for him."

Her uncle, Leonato, shook his head in a mix of merriment and dismay. "Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband."

Beatrice cocked a rebellious brow. "Not till God make men of some other metal than earth."

Her family and friends laughed, as Beatrice skipped off to her quarters, after Benedick retreated, repelled by his lady's tongue.

The noble Prince scratched his beard and observed, "She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband," referring to the spirited Beatrice.

Leonato, her uncle, chuckled, "O, by no means; she mocks all her wooers out of suit."

Then, an idea formed. "She were an excellent wife…" said the Prince, "For Benedick."

Laughter broke out at that preposterous notion. "Oh Lord, my lord," guffawed Leonato, "If they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad."

The Prince rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He had had an epiphany and by God he would follow it. "I will… undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to bring signior Benedick and the lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection, the one with the other." And he'd employ his friends' help, which they happily offered.

The Claudio and Hero story was fairly simple and without obstacle. That is, for now.

Meanwhile, the trap for Beatrice and Benedick would be set.

In the audience, Shawn laughed. They should've done this for Jason and Mimi. It'd taken them a dog's age to get a clue. Then, he shrugged. He wasn't one to talk.

So, a bitterly disappointed Benedick sat, talking to himself in the gardens. Another one of his buddies had betrayed the cause. Young Claudio was turning husband. How tragic. How revolting. Benedick would never fall prey to such a plight. Why? Because no one single woman had what it took.

Carrying a folded chair in his hand, he sighed. "One woman is fair, yet I am well: another is wise, yet I am well: another virtuous, yet I am well: but till all graces be in one woman," he declared with a defiant index finger, "One woman shall not come in my grace." He carelessly tortured a nearby flower. "Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her; fair, or I'll never look on her; mild, or come not near me." Then, he angled his head, as he counted off on his fingers, "Of good discourse, an excellent musician, and… her hair shall be…" Pondering, he gazed up at the sky. And then shrugged. "Of what colour it please God." Noises came from the other side of the garden. Benedick shook his head. "Ha! the prince and monsieur Love! I will hide myself."

The Prince grinned and asked softly to his friends, "See you where Benedick hath hid himself?"

In the meantime, clueless Benedick attempted to unlock the mysteries of a folded chair. He cursed. How did this infernal thing work? Ah, he thought, as he managed to manipulate the object into something that resembled a functional chair.

Across the gardens, the Prince and his party sat on the long marble bench. "Come hither, Leonato," announced the Prince quite loudly and deliberately, "What was it you told me to-day? that your niece Beatrice was in love…"

Lending a half ear, Benedick set the chair to the ground and began to lower himself into it.

"…With signior Benedick?"

The chair collapsed beneath poor Benedick, and he landed rightly on his ass.

The audience howled with laughter.

Benedick scrambled to gain his feet. "Is't possible?" he gasped and listened in, as if his life depended on it. And by the time, his dear friends were through with him and departed quite proud of themselves, Benedick emerged from his hiding place. Utterly flabbergasted. "Love me?" He stumbled toward center stage. In a daze, he spread open his palms. "Why?"

Belle giggled. Men were so easy.

Benedick sat himself on that very bench of conspiracy. A slow grin spread across his bearded face. "It must be requited… They say the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness; and virtuous;-'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise,-but for loving me…" He chuckled at himself. Then, he stepped onto the bench and shouted, "I will be horribly in love with her!"

A whoop came from the audience, evoking more laughter.

Then, Benedick abruptly quieted and hopped off from his previous exultation. He stroked his beard, realizing how his sudden change of heart toward the idea of love and marriage may make him the brunt of jokes. "But doth not the appetite alter?" he challenged, reassuring himself. He thought again and set his hands upon his hips in self-righteousness. "No!" he exclaimed to his would-be censures, "The world must be peopled!"

Shawn, Philip, and Jason laughed hysterically. The dude was so gone.

And so the play continued, as the ladies set a similar trap for Beatrice.

The moment of truth came, as Beatrice wept for her belied cousin Hero. On her very wedding day, innocent Hero was accused by her misguided betrothed, Claudio, and Prince of sleeping with another man. Now, abandoned and slandered, poor Hero was led off stage by her family, leaving Beatrice and Benedick behind.

"Lady Beatrice," spoke Benedick tenderly, "Have you wept all this while?"

"Yea," she trembled, "And I will weep a while longer."

Belle sniffed, as tears streamed. Oh, poor Beatrice. Eyes glued to the stage, Chloe handed her friend a wad of tissues. Then, Benedick professed his love to Beatrice and she to him. And Belle sobbed, soaking the wad of tissue. The boys exchanged looks and rolled their eyes. Chicks.

But how did Beatrice want Benedick to prove his love? "Kill Claudio."

Shocked, Benedick replied, "Not for the wide world."

Fresh tears falling, Beatrice stood, "You kill me to deny it: farewell." Her beloved tried to stop her, but she turned, hysterical, "O, that I were a man! I would eat his heart at the market-place. Sweet Hero!-she is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone."

"Beat-" Benedick attempted to comfort her, but she pulled away. Shakespeare here would prove to be a feminist before his time. Oh, the frailty of a female's reputation. A woman's worth could be ripped to shreds by a single utterance, particularly from a man. In a single careless or malicious instant, one could plummet from noble maid to common stale. Slut.

"O that I were a man for his sake!" shouted enraged Beatrice, "He is now as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and swears it: -I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving."

"You go, girl!" shouted a female from the audience. Tearful chuckles erupted throughout.

Benedick grasped Beatrice's hand. "Enough!-I am engaged.-I will challenge him; I will kiss your hand. and so leave you."

The females sighed.

The males, Jason in particular, in the audience most appreciated the later scenes with Dogberry and his underling, who galloped about, hilariously horseless. Bizarre Dogberry would be responsible for bringing the truth to light… by fortuitously stumbling upon it.

The play continued in an exhilarating mix of laughter and tears. After the villains were revealed and all was righted, there were two weddings to celebrate in the end. Then, the curtain drew and the audience jumped to its feet in a standing ovation. The curtain opened once more, so that the actors, one by one, could run up to center stage and bow. And the last to emerge to join their fellow thespians were Brian O'Connell and Mimi Lockhart.

Mimi's friends and family cheered and hooted for her. Jason stood with the bouquet under his arm and clapped, until his hands were numb. She was amazing.

The company linked hands and bowed together for the last time. Then, the spotlights dimmed and the curtains drew.

"Come on, guys!" piped Belle, over boisterous crowd, "We have to go see Mimi and tell her how great she was." She latched onto Chloe's hand, who in turn grabbed Philip's hand, who in turn hooked his arm with Shawn's, and he with Jason's. They could easily lose each other in this madness. In that amusing train, the teens navigated their way against the exiting flood of people and finally made it to backstage. Eventually, they found Mimi, yet in costume, already surrounded by her family and her fellow actors.

"Mimi!" called out Belle, who quickly closed the distance between them. "You were so great!"

Mrs. Lockhart hefted up a drowsy Conner from Mimi's lap.

Flying high, Mimi smiled and rose to hug all her friends. Jason was last to approach. "Hey, Jason," she said, soaring with tonight's success, "Thanks for coming," and she hugged him.

He hesitated only from surprise. He still wasn't used to it. Her. This vibrant and fierce sprite of a girl. He didn't know, if he ever would. But he hugged her back. "Awesome job, Meems. Awesome."

She pulled away a bit and giggled. "Um, are those for me?"

Jason looked down at the slightly crumpled bouquet in his hand. He'd almost forgotten they were there. "Uh, yeah." And held them out to her.

If she weren't so happy with life - with everything, she would've blushed and stammered. But tonight, she couldn't lose. She'd accomplished something. Tonight, she was the star. So, she accepted the flowers and sniffed them a bit, only moments before she reached up to pull Jason into a hard kiss. In front of Philip, Shawn, Belle, Chloe, Mimi's family, Mrs. Horton, the actors, and the stagehands. Everyone.

The kiss was broken, when encouraging whistles and wolf howls erupting from the drama club members. No doubt, by Monday morning, everyone at Salem High would know that Jason Welles and Mimi Lockhart were officially an item. Nevertheless, their friends were grinning like delirious fools. Even Mimi's mother and father, who were trying to sustain a neutral parental front, smiled. Their daughter was so happy.

"Mimi!" called her fellow drama club students, "We're heading out to dinner! You coming?" The troop had all decided to dine after the performance to avoid regurgitative jitters.

Mimi was about to eagerly accept, when she remembered her friends, family, and Jason. "Um… maybe you should go on ahead, guys," she said with regret to the young Shakespearean troop.

"Oh, come on, Mimi!" protested her co-stars.

Chewing her bottom lip, Mimi prepared once again to decline.

"Go on, pumpkin," said her father, knowing his daughter too well. She looked so obviously torn.

Trying her best not to appear ungrateful or too hopeful, Mimi looked to her mom.

Her mother smiled. "It's okay, honey. Go on and have a good time. Besides, your brother here," she indicated to the sleeping boy in her arms, "Is out like a light. We'll celebrate tomorrow morning. How about that?"

"And we'll see you tomorrow, Meems," added Belle, who smiled brightly, so happy for her friend.

"You mean, Sunday," corrected Chloe, "L.A. Notre Dame. You and the boys are going out of town, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," recalled Belle, "See, Meems? We have to get up early tomorrow morning anyway. Well, you can tell Chloe all about it tomorrow, and I'll be back Sunday to catch up. But tonight, you should so go have fun. You so deserve it."

"Yeah," said Jason, finally finding his voice, "It's your night, Meems." He stuck his hands in his pockets, still trying to recover from the kiss.

"T-Thanks, you guys," sniffed Mimi, suddenly teary-eyed and hardly understanding why. Maybe it was true. Actors were really emotional wrecks. "Thanks for being here for me."

"Oh, Meems." Belle hugged her friend tightly.

"Alright, alright," grinned Shawn, "Let the poor girl go or she'll never get out of here."

Everyone chuckled.

"Do you want us to take those flowers home, pumpkin?" asked her father.

"No," answered Mimi, taking another sniff, "I'd like to keep them for a while." Then, she caught Jason's hand in hers. "Call you later?"

"Yeah," he replied, too rapt to notice the knowing grins breaking out around them.

A moment soon after, Mimi was swept up by a flood of her fellow drama club members. After making sure everyone had a safe way to get home, the proud Lockharts also said their adieus and made their way toward the exit.

"Well, dude," began Shawn, swinging a companionable arm around Jason's shoulders, as the teens walked toward the parking lot, "What do you think about splitting a limo with me and Belle?"

"Huh?" Jason was still distracted. A lot had happened in the past week. With his family. With Mimi. Plus, there was Notre Dame tomorrow. It was beginning to feel a bit overwhelming.

"Li-mo," enunciated an amused Shawn, "L. I. M. O. As in limousine? As in mode of transportation to the Last Blast?"

Belle giggled. Mission accomplished, she thought. Mimi finally found a guy, who was completely dazzled by her. And she him. Finally. Now, if the closet poet could just put together a coherent sentence.

"What?" asked Jason, gradually regaining logical thought processes, "Thought you guys were gonna squeeze into the K-Man's stretch?"

"Squeeze?" questioned Phil, insulted. "For your information, we can cruise with the entire cheerleading squad doing cartwheels and still have plenty of room, man."

"Ahem," interrupted Chloe, cocking a brow, and folded her arms on her chest, "And how, by chance, do we know this?"

"Uh…" Philip's face turned as red as a tomato.

His buddies burst out laughing, despite Philip's stern look for silence. And mercy. Oh, the stories they could tell of those pre-Chloe days.

"Uh…" continued Philip. Shit. Him and his big mouth.

"Well, Kiriakis?" said Chloe, tapping her foot now, even though the corners of her mouth twitched. She was well-versed in the history of K-Man exploits. Thanks largely to Jan and her vindictive and less-than-subtle crew. In actuality, it hardly mattered to Chloe. What mattered was now. She had no doubts about now. Though, it was the now in consideration of the then that made him even more special. But wasn't this interesting? Mr. Suave and Sophisticated Philip Robert Kiriakis squirming in his shorts. He looked simply adorable.

"Uh…" Philip resisted shifting on his feet. God help him now. "I love you?"

His buddies laughed even harder.

But Chloe smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Good answer."

Philip sighed in relief. And pulled her closer. Then, he turned to his mischievous buddies. "You're definitely on your own now," he said, referring to the limo.

"I'm crushed, Phil," chuckled Shawn, covering his heart with his hand, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Special night for you and Chloe. Don't wanna leave us hanging, in case you guys feel like running off somewhere to do whatever."

Jason snorted, but kept his comments to himself.

"But we're definitely meeting up at the Hudson Street Diner afterwards, right?" asked Belle to the group.

Chloe looked to Philip, before nodding. "Yeah."

"About the limo, Shawn," said Jason, "I dunno, man. I dunno, if I've got that kinda dough. After the truck and everything, it's kinda tight."

"No prob, dude," assured his friend, "My folks said they'd pay for half and I gotta come up with the other half. So, you just gotta have a fourth or something." He scratched his head and looked to his old math tutor. "Right?"

Chloe laughed. "Sounds about right." Then, their respective paths forked. "See you guys later!"

"Good night, Philip! Night, Chloe!"

Then, the couple walked off toward their car.

Jason thought for a bit. "Let me sleep on it."

"No pressure," shrugged Shawn, slipping his arm around Belle's waist. "I basically got the half saved up. Just thought it'd be cool, if you and Mimi came along, too."

Philip parked his car a block from Chloe's house. They didn't want to risk some nosey neighbor reporting to the Wesleys about a suspicious-looking fancy sports car parked in the driveway. Overnight. So, in comfortable silence, they took slow, easy strides toward her front door. The crickets chirped in the quickly cooling night. Early fireflies blinked enchantingly through the darkness. The couple had walked that last stretch of path together so often that their feet had every inch memorized. So that all they needed was to enjoy the sweet night air and the company.

The feeling was familiar yet strange, he realized with his overnight duffel slung over his shoulder. Countless times they'd stepped onto that porch. Here had been their first kiss. And the second, third, fourth… He watched, as Chloe dug in her purse for house keys. But he'd never entered through the front entrance, planning to stay the night. It felt so strange but familiar. Maybe… Maybe because…

She'd just unlocked the door and pushed it open, when Philip caught her by her back and under her knees and scooped her up in his arms. Her arms automatically wound around his neck to keep from slipping. "Philip!" she giggled, breathless, "What're you doing?"

A dimple winked. "It's later." Then, his lips met hers. The kiss slow and drawn out, as he carried her over the threshold.