“You’re a real smartass, aren’t you?”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Don’t be so childish,” I huffed, getting up and picking up Lucifer’s bowl now that he was done eating. “You can joke all you like, but you’re the one who demanded this conversation.”

He rolled his eyes, but I got the feeling it was more for show than anything else. “I didn’t demand anything. You can’t seriously think we’re going to ignore this.”

“Again, I said I would ignore it.”

“You’re a lot of work, Hannah.”

“So are you, Isaac.”

“Don’t say my name.”

“Why? I can assure you it’s not nearly as distracting as when you say my name.”

He quirked one eyebrow. “You like it when I say your name?”

Danger. Danger. Danger.

“I didn’t say that. I said it was distracting,” I said quickly. “Stop twisting my words!”

“I’m not doing anything of the kind.”

“I mean it when I say I’ll grab you by the balls and kick you out.”

“You’ll grab me by the balls? I might like that.”

I slapped my hand against the island. “Stop that!”

“I can’t help it. If I knew winding you up was this fun, I’d have chatted you up months ago.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “If you’re proposing that we sleep together, you’re going about it the wrong way.”

“Actually, I was trying to goad you into proposing it so my reputation as a gentleman remains intact.”

“Gentlemen don’t send dirty text messages to strangers.”

“Ah, but I didn’t.” His grin was lopsided. “I was sending them to you.”

“But you didn’t know that at the time.”

“Semantics.”

“Are you aware this conversation is going absolutely nowhere?”

“I am. I’m also aware that, by your own admission, there’s plenty of other things you could be doing with your mouth right now.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re right. I could be eating.”

He paused, then burst out laughing. “That wasn’t what I was going for.”

“I know exactly what you were going for.” I laughed with him. “But I’m not playing those games with you. This is awkward enough without us actually having sex.”

“I disagree.”

“What if it’s bad?” I held out my hands. “What if it’s only bad for one of us? We see each other almost daily.”

“Ah, yes, those long, romantic walks to the post box.”

“What in God’s name is the post box?”

“Where the post goes.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The mailbox,” he said wryly. “It’s a post box in the UK.”

I did a double-take. “Why would you call the mailbox a post box?”

“Because the post box is where the post goes.” Isaac stopped. “You’re looking at me like I’m reading you a Chinese takeaway menu in French.”

“What’s a takeaway?”

He brought his hands to his head and massaged his temples, briefly shutting his eyes. “I knew I should have gone back to England.”

“Seriously. What’s a takeaway?”

“Takeout, Hannah. It’s what you weirdos call takeout.”