“I love my nana,” he said. “And book club brings us together.”

“I would say that I have a hard time picturing you in a book club with a group of mature women discussing romance novels, but I honestly don’t. I can totally see it.”

“While I’m currently the only man, book club doesn’t discriminate. Anyone is welcome.” He shook his head in mock disgust. “Really, Lou. Ageist and sexist.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s early.”

He tilted his head. “It did take a few times for them to get comfortable with me. I brought my cross-stitch to help put them at ease. The discussions are lively, I’ve learned a shit ton about women and sex, and my nana is happy. It’s all win.”

“You cross-stitch?” I set down my mug. “How did I not know this?” I glared at him. “You’re always here. I follow you on Instagram. We have no secrets, Will!”

“I thought you knew,” Van said, sipping her coffee. “His cross-stich actually has a separate Instagram account.”

Will took out his phone, pulled up a photo, and showed me a tea towel with a neat design stitched into it—a teacup with a skull and crossbones. The teacup had the word “poison” on it in bright red thread. “I made that for Nana for Mother’s Day.”

Vanessa leaned over and kissed his temple. “You are the best of men.”

I couldn’t be quite sure because he dipped his head to drink his coffee, but I think Will blushed.

“But you are distracting us from the very real topic of Lou knocking boots with our roommate.” Van put her mug down and laid her hands flat against the table. “Talk.”

“Yes.” Will nodded, all seriousness. “You have made the beast with two backs.”

“The old lust and thrust,” Van added.

“Did the no-pants dance.”

“Spelunked the bat cave.”

Will’s eyes were positively sparkling. “You opened the gates of Mordor.”

Vanessa dropped her voice down lower, drawing the words out, like she was a news anchor. “Stormed Fort Vajayjay.”

“You’re a woman now. Huzzah.” Will pretended to throw confetti.

Will was weird in the morning. Scratch that, Will was just weird. “Can we stop saying increasingly disturbing euphemisms?”

“Fine,” Van said. “You’ve had The Sex. How are we feeling about that this morning?”

I was feeling a little sore, a whole lot satisfied, and a bit worried. We hadn’t talked about what it meant yet. Did it mean anything? Should it mean anything? Did we even need to talk about it?

“That’s a whole lot of thinking over there,” Will said. “That’s never good.”

Van leaned close to him. “The ferrets said he kept her up half the night. Maybe her brain isn’t working. I might need to make another pot of coffee.”

“I’m going to blister your ferrets’ ears,” I mumbled.

Will tapped Van’s shoulder, mouthing, “How many times?”

She held up three fingers.

Huh. The ferrets had missed one. Well, I wasn’t going to correct them.

Will stood up. “Excuse me a second.” Then he left the kitchen.