“So, if you think I’m going to fuck you out of gratitude,” Caleb whispered, “or to pay my way, or whatever is going through that pretty head of yours, just forget it. I kissed you. I made the first move. Me.” “I remember,” Peter said, seeming to recover some of his usual easy affability. “I was there.” “So while your concern is admirable and this conversation, however much I hate to admit it, was probably a good idea, your worries are unfounded, and you are very dumb.”
