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"What, eating off someone?" As soon as I say it, I want to grab the words from the air and shove them back down my throat.

A mischievous smile curls his lips. "Well no. First time with beans, yeah. Other times it was something more... delectable, and not just on fingers."

And now I'm back to loving the protective veil so he can't see the fire-red flush that's surely covering every inch of my face.

"Did I just embarrass you?" He laughs and pushes up to lean on one arm. The muscles beneath this shirt bunch and tense, making the shirt tighter.

"What? Yes. Wait! No."

Well hell.

"You're telling me that in all your twenty-eight years, no guy has eaten something off you?"

The fact he knows my age throws me for a loop until remembering he read my file. "Does picking up popcorn that fell on my lap and then eating it count?" I know it doesn't and it sounds pathetic, but hey, it’s all I got.

"Did he pick it up with his teeth while you were naked?"

"No," I wheeze. Shoot me now.

"Then no, it doesn't count. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No. But some guy asked me out before I left. My boss, actually." Not sure why I add that in.

"Have you had a lot?"

"A lot?"

"Of boyfriends?"

"Um, that's a negative. I work in dark caves alone, staring at code. Not really conducive to meeting people other than in chat rooms."

"Oh really. So tell me, Pops, any of those chat rooms get... interesting?"

"Not answering that one." My smile widens and the butterflies that set up shop in my stomach erupt.

"So that's a yes. I like where this is going." His smile looks painful, but he doesn't say anything.

"I don't."

"Have you dated though? Real people you can touch and interact with face-to-face? Feel like I needed to clarify that last bit for you."

Leaning against the divider, I rest my head and close my eyes. This has to be the most random, awkward conversation I've had in person. Ever.

"Yes, but...."

"But what?"

"It's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it. If you haven't noticed, we got the time."

"Before I answer that, you have to answer a question. Do you have a girlfriend?" I suck in a deep breath and hold it, hoping his answer isn't what I know it will be. Look at him. Of course he does. And I bet she’s beautiful and fun and was the prom queen in high school.

"Yes." That held breath whooshes from my lungs in disappointment. "It's complicated though."

"Why?" I prod.

"You first."