I sucked in a deep breath.

Otter said, “Wow. That went places I didn’t expect.”

“You can’t stick anything in my dick! You look online for a traffic cone, but nothing goes in my dick, Otter.”

“Myspace. Twattering. Jesus Christ. It’s like you’re twenty-eight and eighty all at the same time.”

I glared at him over the top of the wineglass, which had gotten refilled at some point. He was so good to me. “I know things,” I said, licking my lips for any drops of wine that thought they could escape me.

“Bear, when you got a smartphone for the first time, you thought an app store was a physical place you had to go to in order to download apps.”

“The salesman didn’t have to be so rude about it. I mean, he acted like no one had ever thought the same thing before.”

“I don’t know that anyone has. I don’t know that there’s anyone in this world that thinks like you.”

“Ugh. You’re gushing again. Please stop. I know I’m great. You don’t need to keep reminding me. Stop filling my wineglass.”

“I find it easier when you’re lubricated.”

I gaped at him. “Did you—did you just make a pun?”

“I’m not even embarrassed.”

“You should be. My god, even I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Really,” he said dryly. “You just talked about dildo seesaws while in the same breath telling me you wouldn’t mind me sticking a traffic cone up your ass. And I can’t even make a joke?”

“A pun isn’t a joke. It’s offensive. I mean, you’re old, but you’re not that old. It’s such a dad thing to do.”

He paled a little at that, hand tightening around his fork.

And of course, I immediately felt bad. “No, no, no. You’re not old. I mean, you are older than me, but you’re not old. I heard that thirty-seven is the new something-something. And hey! When your birthday comes around again, thirty-eight will be the new… whatever the new thing is.”

And even as I watched, I could see him steel himself. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He reached over and took my hand in his, gripping it tightly. “Okay,” he said. “So there is something.”

“Ha,” I said weakly. “I knew it. You liar.”

“Bear, I—Derrick, there’s—” He coughed and shook his head a little. “Okay. You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Of course. I mean, I’ve known that forever. Hell, if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that. I—you know I love you too?” My hand felt clammy, because for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what the hell was happening right now, but it was serious.

I hated it.

His mouth twitched. “Yeah. I figured as much when you and the Kid wrote me a love poem with a subtle vegetarian message embedded into it.”