“I can’t stand . . . hmm. I can’t stand hot chocolate.” “Oh my god,” she said. “Me, either! I mean, it was very nice of you to bring me this, but yeah. It’s not my favorite.” “Whoops,” he said. “Slip of the tongue. I meant to say I can’t stand raw onions. But I guessed you didn’t like it, from the way your nose crinkled after that first sip.
