“A corkscrew. Oh my God, I can’t even…” I shiver again, in discomfort this time. “Poor female ducks.” “Might not be so bad if it’s all you know,” he says. Then, he laughs again. It’s a full laugh, and it fills the car up, warming the air between us. “I can’t fucking believe the conversations I have with you.” “You were the one who brought up the intimate anatomy of a duck,” I say, but I’m grinning, too. “Yeah, and I stand by it because I want to win the game.”
