“I don’t think it matters if somebody is bad at it,” he says, and then uncrosses his arms to hold up a hand when he sees me start to interrupt. “No, seriously. Who cares? That just means you do it more often, right? And this sort of thing isn’t really about what you’re doing or how you’re doing it. I think who you’re with means more. Carter could be a truly terrible kisser, but how would you know? You enjoy kissing him, and that’s all that matters.”
