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I'm still trying to get my breathing under control when she traces one finger along the tattoo on my upper arm.

Not random touches.

She follows the lines she put there.

The route. The breaks. The waveform through the middle.

I watch her hand move over my skin.

"You checking your work?"

"Maybe."

I run my hand slowly along her back.

The room is quiet, but it doesn't feel awkward. That might be the biggest difference from the first time.

Last time, the silence afterward filled up fast with everything we thought we needed to explain away.

Tonight, neither of us is rushing to do that.

I look down at her. "I think we can probably stop pretending we hate each other."

Ruby's finger pauses on my arm. "That's a big step."

"You willingly got into my truck."

"You were my ride."

"You willingly came into my house."

"I was being polite."

"You took your clothes off."

She looks up at me. "You make a compelling case."

"I thought so."

Her smile stays for a second before she rests her cheek against my chest again.

I keep my hand on her back.

"So, what are we doing?" I ask.

Ruby is quiet long enough that I wonder if I pushed too far.

Then she says, "I have no idea."

Surprisingly, that answer doesn't bother me.

"Okay."

She lifts her head. "Okay?"

"Yeah. We don't have to figure it out tonight."

Her expression softens.