"Come on," I said, taking his hand. Clutching the afghan with the other hand, he trailed down the hall after me, a snow white giant in tiny red underwear.

He looked like he'd just seen the Ghost of You Better Shut Your Mouth.

I don't write the kind of 'happily ever after' that romance readers enjoy.

Hey, our hair's the same color," I said, eyeing us side by side in the mirror. Sure is, Girlfriend." Eric grinned at me. "But are you blond all the way down?" Don't you wish you knew?" Yes," he said simply. Well, you'll just have to wonder." I am," he said. "Blond everywhere," I could tell as much from your chest hair." He raised my arm to check my armpit. "You silly women, shaving your body hair," He said, dropping my arm.

If it pleases you and you can write at all, it's gonna please somebody else.

Okay I've been stupid in the past. Not consistently stupid, but occasionally stupid. And I've made mistakes. You bet, I've made mistakes.

We could go back," he said. In the dome light of the car, his face looked hard as stone. "We could go back to your house. I can stay with you always. We can know each other's bodies in every way, night after night. I could love you." His nostrils flared, and he looked suddenly proud. "I could work. You would not be poor. I would help you." "Sounds like a marriage," I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. But my voice was too shaky. "Yes," he said.