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“Then why did she want to pause things?”
That’s harder to explain. “Did she tell you about the meeting?” I ask.
“Which one?”
“With Willa Wilder,” I say. “She wants the two of you to show up at an investor dinner with a ring. As the poster couple.”
For a moment, his entire face brightens, then he remembers something—probably the situation they’re in now, the break—and it falls.
“Is that what you want?” I ask. “A future with her?”
“Of course.”
“But you know her well enough at this point.”
“She’s not a commitment kind of girl,” he says.
See. He gets her. They do belong together. The algo was right. It’s just the two of them getting in their own way.
“And you want that?” he asks. “To see us together for the company?”
“Of course,” I say. “But I like you together, too.” Mostly. No. All the way. He’s good for her. And she’s been happy with him, as happy as I’ve ever seen her.
“Is she sleeping with other guys?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Maybe. Wasn’t that your agreement?”
“Yes.” He swallows hard.
“She’s a very sexual person.”
“I know.”
“And you two haven’t—?”
“She told you that?”
“She tells me a lot,” I say. “Not details.” She offers, sometimes, but I decline. “Is there a reason?”
“Why we haven’t had sex?”
I nod.
“Of course.”
I know what Lexi says. But what’s his story? “A good reason?”
“A great reason.”
Okay. I try to hold his gaze, but it’s too much. It’s strange, talking about my sister and her boyfriend this way.
He takes a deep breath and lets out a steady exhale. Slowly, he works up to his confession, as if he’s a witness about to implicate a co-conspirator. “I’m too good.”
“What?”
“I’m too good in bed,” he says. “It’s ruined all my relationships.”
“Your skill ruined your relationships?”
