“A lot?” I ask teasingly. “Have there been a lot?” He pauses mid-toast-flip and slants me a glance. “Are you asking how many people I’ve had sex with?” “I mean, it’s none of my business. If you don’t want to—” “Eight.” Eight? Lord above, only eight?! “Oh.” I straighten and rest my hip against the counter. “What a, um, single-digit number that is.” “Well, I’ve been with one person for ten years so…what about you?” What about me? I’m tabulating years of hook-ups, one-night stands, fuck bois and carrying the one. “If you don’t want to,” he says, cracking an egg into a bowl, “it’s fine. I don’t
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