“Millie?” I still can’t look. “What?” “I’m not sorry,” he says. “I had a great time with you last night, and I’m not sorry for any part of it. And I hope you’re not either.” I venture a look at him. He is still in bed, the covers up to his waist, revealing his bare, muscular chest. “No, I’m not sorry at all.” “But…” He heaves a sigh. “It can’t happen again. You know that, right?” I nod. “Yes, I understand.”
