[No probably not. It's a good thing he doesn't need one, because if she tries hard to remember what it was like, all she really does remember is that it didn't do what it was meant to do. It didn't cure her heartache or her anger, only made them grow and added regret over being an asshole onto the pile. He may not have minded, but she had; she'd minded that she'd used him so much.

She remembers leaving his tent in a hurry, sweat still clinging to her skin, but if it had been from fantastic sex or from the exercise alone... Well, she'd have remembered the fantastic part of the sex better.

She makes a soft little sound when Nike moves again.]

You keep doing that, she's gonna end up rubbing against my tits, and you can tell Jem she has something in common with her cat.