“It’s a guy thing,” he told me. “We like taking care of our women. You don’t let me help you, the other boys’ll make fun of me and then I’ll have to cry. Are you trying to make me cry, London?” He blinked at me like an innocent puppy, and I couldn’t help it. I started laughing, and we both knew he’d won. “You suck,” I told him. “You like it.” He was right – I totally did.”
