“Dude, seriously,” he says, offended. Then he perks up. “Wait, did something happen? What happened?”
“What happened is I bought her a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine then threatened to finger fuck her in the middle of the restaurant.”
There’s a long pause, then the background TV noise goes silent.
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”
I tell him everything that happened from the moment I picked her up to when I dropped her off a few minutes ago.
“Holy shit,” he says when I’m done. “You shelled out that much for wine and didn’t even get laid?”
I make a noise of disgust as he starts to laugh.
“You’re an asshole,” I tell him. “Do you have anything useful to say?”
“I do, but I’m not sure you want to hear it.”
“Try me.”
“Well, it kind of sounds like you’re in love with her.”
There’s silence while I digest that. “You’re full of shit,” I say finally.
“Yeah, told you you didn’t want to hear it.”
“I mean, I like her a lot, and I want her so bad my dick feels like it’s about to fall off, but don’t you think it’s a little premature to throw around the L word? What if I fuck her and the sex is awful?”
“Are you planning to fuck her?” he asks.
I pause. “I want to. But she thinks this is all fake. I’m not sure how I convince her we need to have real sex to sell fake dating.”
It’s his turn to pause. “You said she thinks this is all fake. It sounds likeyoudon’t think it is.”
I didn’t expect him to catch that.
“I mean…there’s no harm in her thinking it’s just fake dating even if I know it’s real dating, right?” I ask hopefully. “Do both parties have to agree it’s dating for it to be dating?”
“No, as long as one party says it’s dating, it’s legit. Stalkers do it all the time,” he says sarcastically. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Of course both parties have to agree it’s dating!”
I consider potential loopholes, then ask, “Is there a standard timeline for both parties to agree it’s dating before it can be official?”
Kelsier sighs. “Why don’t you just tell her you like her and ask her if she wants to date for real?” he suggests.
I scoff. “Now who’s being ridiculous?”
He sighs again. “Fine, do it your way. What could possibly go wrong?”
“That’s the spirit.”
“So are you going out again?”
“We didn’t discuss it, but she’s coming to the training center tomorrow,” I offer. “I can ask her about a second date then.”
“You’re a regular Casanova,” he says.
“I always thought I was more of a Romeo.”
“Romeo dies in that play, you know.”
