Page 27 of Resist

“Yes. I like pigs.”

“Anything else?”

“Strawberry ice cream.”

“Good choice.” I laughed.

“And pussy.”

This time, I really did choke on my wine. It was also the precise moment the waitress placed our meals in front of us.

She stared at Lucas, wide-eyed, then she stared at me.

I stared at him, and then he stared at me too.

“Molluscs have arrived,” he announced, rubbing his hands together greedily.

The waitress dipped her head and high-tailed her arse back to the kitchen.

“Oh my God! Lucas, you can’t just blurt that out in a restaurant.”

“Why not? You asked, and I’m honest.”

“No shit.”

He started chuckling, forked some salt and pepper squid, and then leaned back on his chair. “How can you be the owner of a male strip revue and be embarrassed by the word pussy?”

I reapplied my napkin across my lap. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Your cheeks say otherwise.”

Leaning forward, I placed my elbows on top of the table, crossed my hands over one another and rested my chin atop them, my eyes locked with his. “There’s nothing wrong with pussy.”

“I know there’s not.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

We stared at each other until his eyes dipped to my chest then farther down to my plate. “You gonna eat your molluscs?” He nodded toward my oysters.

“Yes. But do you want to share?”

He closed his eyes and moaned. “I think I just died and went to heaven.”

Smiling, I pushed the rim of the plate with my pointer finger, slowly inching it into the centre of the table, and then we both chose an oyster and raised it to our mouths.

“Ready, set—”

Lucas slurped his mollusc down his gullet like a pelican at feeding time before I even had the chance to say, ‘go’.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, swallowing hard.

“So if you’re not late, you’re premature, is that it? There’s no in between with you?”

He cleared his throat. “I’mneverpremature.”

“Tell that to the oyster you just devoured.”