“Oh, and she loves dark chocolate,” I say. “I’ll just grab the condoms. How’s that?” I clutch the phone tighter. “You’re asking for my permission to have sex? That’s kind. And the answer is no. I’m already taken.” He laughs dryly. “You’re a fucking prick.” “I’ve been called worse,” I say, my voice casual still. “But I’m the prick with the girl. And she’s not inflatable.”
