“Oh, dear heavens,” she says, gripping me by the shoulders. “We, uh . . . we’re touching.” “We are,” I say past a tight jaw. “My boobs are against your manliness.” “Yup. Are you intending to remove them?” “I am . . . I am, just trying to figure out how to do this in a classy way.” “There’s no classy way of getting out of this. Just pull away.” “Okay. I’m going to count to three.” “There’s no need to count. Just pull away.” “But counting feels right. A finality to these unforeseen circumstances.”
