Wrong about Shepard—I was frightfully wrong about Shepard. And I’m so glad. What else could I have been wrong about? I hope he shows me. I want him to show me.

I’ve been sitting in his lap for what feels like hours. We’re still kissing, and it’s still so soft. And he’s still smiling. I’m not sure he’s stopped smiling. I’m smiling, too. Shepard looks different without his glasses—even more open, even more vulnerable. His eyes are smaller, his face has more space. I kiss the spot between his eyebrows, and he laughs.

My glasses are gone, too—Shepard took them off and set them somewhere. He tracks his thumbs along my eyebrows, down, over my cheekbones, and his smile fades. “Penelope … I need to ask you something.”

I sit back a little on his thighs. “Okay.”

He brings his hands to my waist, like he’s holding me steady. “Are you going to regret this?”

“How would I know that now?” I ask.

Shepard bites his lip. His bottom lip is even pinker than before. “I guess that’s fair.”

“Are you?”

“No,” he says.

“Well, you don’t know that either…”

He sits up a little. “No, I do. Without a doubt. I am never going to regret kissing you. I’m never going to regret a moment we’ve spent together, even though I regret the mistakes I’ve made…”

“Oh,” I say.

He pushes my hair out of my face. It falls back immediately. My ponytail must be nearly dead. “I need to tell you something,” he says, “just in case this is … happening.”

“What do you mean? Obviously it’s happening.”

He clears his throat. I reach down my T-shirt and find my gem, so I can summon him a glass of water. He just looks at the water for a second, then drinks half of it, and hands it back to me. I finish it, then disappear the glass. “A place for everything, and everything in its place!”

Shepard clears his throat again. “I need to tell you something, a few somethings. Because now is the time to tell you. Before we get serious. But it’s going to make it seem like I think we’re more serious than we are. I just don’t want to miss my window for being honest with you.”

“Shepard, you’re making me nervous.”

He groans. “I’m sorry. Don’t be nervous.”

My hands were on his shoulders. I drop them into my lap.

“Don’t pull away,” he says.

“Just tell me, Shepard! Are you engaged to more than one demon?”

“No! But … you know I’ve been in a lot of unusual magickal situations…”

“Right.”

“And you know about my thirdborn…”

“I know that a giant you call a friend is going to eat your thirdborn.”

He closes one eye and bites his bottom lip. “I may also have promised someone my firstborn.”