I catch myself a bit too late. I don’t know why I just told her that. It is half true, but I’ve kept it a secret.
Her eyes widen, “You’re in a relationship?”
I nod, “Something like that, and I’m very happy with him.” I force a smile. The statement isn’t entirely a lie. I am happy with the man I’ve been seeing for three years. Our dates bore me, and I know it’ll never go anywhere, but we have great fun in the bedroom. “I don’t need that asshole Killian,” I blurt out. “My boyfr…the man I’m in love with,” I correct myself. “Um….he is more man than that jerk will ever be.”
“Hmm,” she nods. “Maybe let that be the last time you say that, because anyone else who hears you will not take kindly to that insult.”
“Sorry,” I swallow. I was trying so hard to sell my disinterest in him that I forgot
