Ok, ok, so here’s the deal. Tashi had been milking the hell out of Art as his coach, but then she saw you. Pretty tennis player — Art’s girlfriend, all impressive volleys and beautiful backhands and smashes that made her want you. And since when was she one to deny what she wanted, huh? She went straight for it, and you’d been hers for weeks.

Well, part his, part hers.

She’d told you a million times, she was your coach, she was just showing you how to be a better girl for Art and that it wasn’t cheating if it was with a girl, but she didn’t want that anymore. She didn’t want to keep breaking you in with small kisses and make out sessions where you were left dizzy.

She really did want you, and it was a crippling want, to be sat there in your hotel room having a girls’ night— eating pizza, watching chick flicks and Legally Blonde— nights like these ended in a full blown make out anyway. But she wanted you to be hers, not Art’s, not somewhere in between.

“Wanna make out again?” She grinned, biting her lip in that way that she knew would draw attention to her lips— she knew how to do it, it wasn’t hard. And oh, you were so pretty, and gorgeous, and yeah, she wanted to fully own your lips.

Partially didn’t cut it anymore. Art should be gone news, but she still needed to make you comfortable, think more of the idea of her being your girlfriend until it was all you could think about— That’s when she’d get satisfaction, know she did her job. “It’s fun.” Oh, it sure was, with your lips.

Those lips.