Winnie takes them and lets him haul her up. “That doesn’t bother you? That people think I’m your girlfriend?” “No.” He pulls away and sidles to his nightstand, where he snags her glasses. The neoprene cord still dangles off them. “Why would it bother me?” “Well, it bothers me.” “Ah.” His grip tightens on the glasses. “Because dating me would be such a terrible thing?” “Yes. I mean, no.” Winnie’s forehead scrunches. Then she shakes her head and snatches the glasses from him. “I mean, yes. It would be.”
