But Kate, the problem is, I want to pass go. I want you in my bed—or wherever—I want to know if you feel what I’m feeling, and then we’ll pass go. I want to f**k you just to say I’ve done it—I want to do it because I can. Maybe this makes me an asshole, but I’ve never pretended to be anything else.
“I’ve never done this before,” you say reading my mind. You’re surveying my kitchen, sizing me up, and you’re a bad little liar, you are.
“Me either,” I tell you, and I am not lying because I’m referring to f*****g someone I’ve been hired to turn over to the cops. This lie comes easy because most criminals are men and the ones who aren’t, never looked like you. But then you’re referring to one-night stands, not f*****g criminals, and I’d be willing to bet you’re more experienced than you’re le
