I spoke literally all the words and expected him to be relieved, to agree, to at most argue for more stringless sex. Not to ask me out on a real date. And give me a gift? I open my mouth to say no, to explain what a bad idea this is. "Yes," I say, then cover my betraying bastard of a mouth with my hand. "Wait, no—" Lachlan's smile is reminiscent of the cat that ate the canary. "No, too late." I drop my hand and cross my arms over my chest. "I can change my mind if I want…" He raises an eyebrow. "And show yourself to be inconsistent with your word?" "I'm not inconsistent. But what's the point of going out together?" It's getting hot in this condo, and I start pacing the small living room, wrapped gift still in hand. Bigger than a breadbox. Sort of. Longer than a breadbox? Lachlan seems too laid back and relaxed, and it pisses me off just a little. "I believe the point is to see if two people are compatible in a long-term relationship," he explains, as if talking to a child.
