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He rubs his thumb against the edge of his bracelet. “Does he know you?”

“He’s seen me.”

Jamie leans back in his chair. His dinner is getting cold, and he still hasn’t taken the pill.

I point to his plate. “Eat.”

He ignores that. “So you’ve been sitting there once a month watching some professor read poetry, and tonight you’re just going to bring him home? Why tonight?”

“Because we’re ready.”

His eyes narrow. “We?”

“You and me.”

“I didn’t realize I was involved in this decision.”

“You weren’t.”

Jamie gives a short laugh and looks away. He stays like that for a few seconds, staring toward the dark window over the sink while his fingers keep worrying at the bracelet. When he looks back at me, he’s angrier. “What does he look like?”

I take my time answering. “I like his face.”

“Yeah, I fucking gathered that.”

I take another bite of chicken while he glares at me.

Oliver has a lovely face. Not like Jamie’s. Jamie is pretty everywhere you look, sharp and soft in exactly the right places. Oliver is older, and there’s something severe about him until he starts reading. Then his whole face changes.

“He wears glasses,” I say. “He has nice hands.”

“Fantastic.”

“And his voice is beautiful.”

Jamie drops his fork onto his plate. “Is there anything about him you don’t fucking like?”

I take the ruler from my pocket and lay it beside my plate. “You may be jealous. You may not speak that way about something that belongs to me.”

“I’m pissed off.” Jamie picks up the pill and holds it between two fingers, but he still doesn’t take it. “You spend six months stalking some other guy, decide tonight’s the night you’re finally going to kidnap him, and I’m supposed to swallow this and go upstairs like a good little doll while you do it?”

“Yes.”

His jaw flexes. “No.”

“Hand.”

He gives it to me.

I bring the ruler down twice. “Try again.”

“I’m not going to sleep so you can collect another fucking man and dump him in the room next to mine.”

I pin his hand flat against the table and bring the ruler down across the same spot. “You’re confusing questions with choices.”

The mark rises immediately.

I release him. He pulls his hand against his chest.