“And I know that you don’t need a man to do that work. But…” She played with a loose thread on one of my expensive pillows that should not have a loose thread. “The muscular man who has been staring at you like a lovestruck teenager, who quite obviously finds your weirdness ridiculously cute, who wants to rip your clothes off and do very bad, very good things to you, and who is out there somewhere, defending your honor.”
