Ha. Spend the night here with me? That seems like an absolute disaster waiting to happen. I’m barely hanging on by a thread, and the cure to all of that is a temptation I can’t consume. What could I possibly say that would communicate I’m pretty sure I love you and therefore you can’t be here? There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing. So . . . “Of course,” I squeak out. “Yeah, you know, because you’ve done that before. You’ve stayed the night, so that shouldn’t be weird.”
