“I like your nose.”
“You don’t have to say that. I mean, like Dominic, I never had trouble getting fucked, not when I was young.”
“You’re not even thirty!”
“Younger. Way younger. Too young. A lot of the stuff you said about me that night we argued is true. Maybe that’s why I got so ticked off.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“I needed to hear it, really. But the other part’s true, too, because, like, I maybe noticed how often a guy would close his eyes when we fucked. Closed eye kisses are sweet. When there’s a guy I like all naked beside me, I want to look at him.”
I made a point to do so. Whipping off my glasses, wiping them on the sheet, putting them back on and ogling Finn with wolf whistles. A double clap brought light to the room. Two lamps on one clapper.
“Even better in light,” I said.
Not that it was dark. The overhead fixture with a hundred-watt bulb had been on the whole time.
“There’s so much more to you than how good you look,” Finn said.