“Us,” Larkin corrected. “I’ve never dated someone I worked with.”

“Are we dating?”

Larkin blinked a few times. He pushed off the wall and stood straighter. “Wasn’t that the implication behind ‘something.’” He used air quotes.

Doyle picked up the tank and turned it again. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“I would say as much if you were.”

“I know. But ending a marriage is a big deal. And you’re still going through a lot. We don’t have to call it dating.”

“What would you suggest we call it.”

“I don’t know.” Doyle concluded the agitation process and poured out the chemicals. He turned on the sink and let the running water funnel through the tank. He finally looked at Larkin again. “It could be casual.”

“I don’t do casual.” Larkin studied Doyle for a moment. “Neither do you.”

“How do you know?”

“You’ve entrusted me with your unlocked phone enough times over the last fifty-one days for me to know you don’t have Grindr or Scruff or whatever the hookup app du jour is. You’ve never brought a man home since I’ve been staying with you, nor have you spent even one evening elsewhere that wasn’t work.”

“That makes me sound sad,” Doyle said over the water.

“No. That wasn’t what I meant to imply. I’m pointing out that your personal values don’t align with the casual, nonexclusive, antirelationship sentiment that has come to dominate much of the LGBT community, making those of us wanting to settle down feel rather like outsiders.” Larkin waved a hand and redirected himself. “Not that I’m suggesting we settle down. What I mean is, when I’m interested in a man, I commit myself entirely to him. And you do the same. So this, by its very definition, can’t be casual.”

Doyle turned off the tap. “I just want you to be safe, Evie. I don’t ever want to be the cause of you getting hurt.”

“Hurt is inevitable,” Larkin answered. “Whether on purpose or by accident. It’s best to acknowledge that in the beginning.”

“That’s rather pessimistic.”

“Realistic,” Larkin corrected.

Doyle set the tank on the counter and filled it with stabilizer solution.

“I know I’m a mess,” Larkin said into the unsettled silence. “I know that being caught in the middle of a divorce must be, at the very least, awkward for you. I know that my inability to never entirely be over men I’ve loved before meeting you will undoubtably cause upset. I know that I come with considerable baggage and that it can be, at times, too much. And if I’ve not successfully supplied enough reasons for you to doubt your interest in me….”

Doyle laughed, very quietly, under his breath while pouring out the final chemical. He turned around and studied Larkin in the otherworldly light.