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I’ve been in, I never had sex on the first date, or even the second. I guess I’m a little old-fashioned.”
    Monique leaned forward, rubbing her body against his. “So . . . let’s have some old-fashioned sex.”
    There is nothing old-fashioned about this woman. “What I’m saying is . . .” I wish her body didn’t feel so nice! “I don’t want this to be a get-over and get-lost date that ends once I leave your bed. I want to begin something that will last. Don’t you want something that will last for more than one night?”
    Monique stepped back.
    She is stunned. I have asked her a loaded question, maybe a question no one has ever asked her before. Should I withdraw the question?
    â€œHow do you know that we won’t last after tonight?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t know, I mean, how can I know, right? But, seriously Monique, that . . . drawer . . . in there . . .”
    Monique squinted. “What about it?”
    Whoa. That had some attitude. “It gives me the impression that . . . what I mean to say is . . .” I can’t say that I won’t be the last man in your bed this week or maybe even this evening. “Most of the condoms were missing, Monique, which means you have an extremely active sex life, and, well, I’m not—”
    â€œYou calling me a whore?” Monique interrupted.
    â€œNo, no, Monique, nothing like that.” Well, maybe something like that. “You have an obviously healthy sexual appetite. I respect that. I am in awe of that. I worship that. Most men would find your preparedness extremely appealing. But I’m the kind of guy who has to ease into a relationship, you know?”
    â€œYou think I’m a whore!”
    â€œNo. That’s so far from the truth.”
    â€œWhat, because I was prepared and you weren’t, I’m the whore?” Monique asked.
    Her hazel eyes can sure catch fire fast. “I never said you were a whore. I have great respect for you, Monique.”
    â€œFor a whore.”
    â€œYou’re not a whore.” Why’d I say the word? “I’m just not, how do I say this, as fast as you are. I wasn’t prepared to have sex tonight because I didn’t expect to have sex tonight. I didn’t go on this date expecting to be in your bed. Do you understand?”
    â€œNo.”
    I didn’t think she would. “I respect you, Monique.”
    She’s stunned again. Words are forming on those delicious lips, but I hear no sound.
    â€œI respect you as a person,” Matthew said.
    She’s still stunned. Am I speaking English?
    â€œAnd anyway, Monique, I’m more of a snuggler, a cuddler, you know, the guy you snuggle up with while watching an old movie playing on the TV, one we both have seen a dozen times,” Matthew said. “And we’d be eating popcorn and drinking some hot chocolate and saying all the lines—”
    Monique jerked opened the door. “No wonder your girlfriend left you. She was bored to death. Good- bye, Matty.”
    Matthew stood on the other side of Monique’s door, wondering whether he should apologize. He also wondered how fast Monique would pick up her cell phone.
    He heard a series of beeps.
    He heard silence.
    He heard, “Hi, yeah, we met at The Cove a few hours ago. What are you doing right now? Yeah? Want to come over? I knew you would . . .”
    At least I warmed her up. Sort of. She was awfully good at warming up herself. She really should restock the XL boxes before her next visitor, though.
    As the sun rose weakly behind him, Matthew wandered back to Williamsburg in a northwesterly direction, amazed that he hadn’t stayed with Monique. In the old days, he wouldn’t have put on the brakes. In the old days, he would have stayed all night and taken her out to breakfast, brunch, or lunch the next day. In the old days, he could handle being up for twenty-four hours without