Page 28 of Heart

“No. Not exactly. I’m texting with my friend Joel about what happened onShaslast night.”

“Remind me how old you are, Trevor. If you don’t mind.”

“Thirty-five.”

“We’re close in age... but oceans apart.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Nothing.”

Scott brought their plates and George dove head-first into his half-chicken, crunching away at a drumstick. Trevor was visibly squeamish at the act. He picked at and around his steamed broccoli.

“Sure you’re not vegan?”

“I don’t eat things on bones.”

George’s eyebrows furrowed. He was gnawing on the chicken leg. When he pulled from his mouth, it was pretty much clean. Trevor was pale to the point of transparency.

“Animal lover?”

“Not really. Bones just gross me out.”

“You’re not an accountant, are you?”

Trevor put his fork down. “I write content... for websites.”

“Why lie about it?”

“Because the mind-set of most single men these days is technology-driven. They’re flighty, less commitment-focused. I thought with a traditional profession, I might attract a more stable option for dating.”

“And yet you perpetuate the behavior you’re avoiding.”

“I find I’m often luckier that way.”

“Did you hear what you just said?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“You set up a date with someone you don’t know under false pretenses and practically ignore them while still having expectations that it will grow into something meaningful.”

“Or sex, of course. You are cute.”

George tossed back the rest of his wine. “Well, that doesn’t work for me,” he said. “And I’m pretty horny, by the way. But Trevor... you should probably reconsider your priorities and your manners before rushing to get your tallywhacker tugged.”

“What makes you think your way of dating is right, George?”

“History? Experience?” He flagged Scott. “Can I get a to-go box for this, and the check, please?”

Scott nodded. He had been returning with the wine but veered into a U-turn toward the kitchen instead.

“I’m sorry this is not working out,” Trevor said, digging for his wallet. “I thought you might be different.”

“Different from what?” George asked, trying to keep his voice down. “I mean, I may have been out of the game for a while, but the fundamentals don’t change. People are courteous, they talk, they’re passionate about things. It’s calledlife, Trevor. It’s more than just spending hours in front of different screens.”

“That sounds like something Abir would say.”

“Jesus Christ.”