“As someone with long-term expertise in pining from afar, I’m happy to play the pawn in your game.” “She made you work for it, huh?” I glance at the girl, who’s still on the phone. I get the impression that if she asked him to tattoo whipped on his forehead, his only question would be: What font? She’d get him to agree to papyrus, too. “It was worth it,” he simply says. “She won’t be mad that you’re helping me?” I tap my chin, thoughtful. “Maybe I can make Conor believe that we’re having a threesome.” His small smile is hard to interpret. “Oh, she’ll love this. Give me your phone.”
