Angel: Next time, Prince Charming? That seems presumptuous. I don’t believe you arranged a next time.

Duke: No? Does asking for your number and using it sixty minutes later not count?

Angel: Should I be impressed with that timing? Is that some new sort of land speed record?

Duke: You should be impressed I remembered your number. Who can remember numbers anymore these days?

Angel: You.

Duke: It’s amazing what I can recall when I really want to.

Angel: Like?

A visceral memory of earlier in the evening flashes before me, so real I swear I can taste her. I can recall perfectly how she felt against me. I’m parked here on my couch, alone in my dark apartment, the whole of the city keeping me quiet company beyond the glass, and yet, I’m back in time to an hour ago.

Duke: The taste of your lips.

Angel: How did they taste?

Duke: Like champagne. Also, the feel of your body.

Angel: How did I feel?

Duke: Addictive, as I predicted. I want another hit.

Angel: All this talk about next times, and another time.

Duke: I’m getting there. But first, I can recall your eyes perfectly.

Angel: What about them?

Duke: Warm, glittering hazel eyes with bronze and green flecks.

She doesn’t answer right away. There are no indicator dots on my phone, and I resign myself to the possibility that she fell asleep, or reconsidered. As I click over to my Japanese app, though, her nickname flashes on my screen.

The excitement in my chest is out of proportion to what it should be. I know that, but even so, it’s there. It’s real. I feel it.

Angel: I tried to think of a clever and witty and perfect reply. But all I want to say is this—your eyes are beautiful too, and I really want to see you again. Maybe that’s too forward. Maybe in this modern world of dating in New York City, I’m supposed to let you make the first move. But I don’t care because I want to see you again. Which I already said. But it’s the truth. You’re adorable and hot at the same time.

Duke: Same to you, and I want that too. Also, I seriously can’t believe I only met you tonight. I spent all that time with you, and it was the best unexpected date in ages.

Angel: I like that you consider it a date. But please know I don’t do that.

Duke: Date?

Angel: Ha! Lately, the answer to that is no. But I meant sleep with a man I’ve just met. Everything about tonight was entirely new to me. One-night stand, sleeping with a stranger and not knowing his name.

Duke: It’s not going to be a one-night stand, Angel. Also, is it weird that I’m really happy to hear that? Especially because I’ve never done that either.

Angel: Is it weird for me to be really happy to hear that too?

Duke: Can I take you out tomorrow night?