“Because of Jules?”
“Not only.”
“She’s in love with you, right?”
“Does it make any difference?”
“It makes a lot of difference! And you instead?”
“Me what?”
“Are you in love with her?”
“Uh... no! What a question. If I was, don’t you think that we were together now?”
“Right. So you like having fun.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I do too!”
“We’re made the one for the other,” I was sarcastic and she kissed me. This time I let her do it, and when I got away from her I said, “I can’t!”
“Why?” she asked, attached to me.
“If we met in another context... I would have hit on you so hard that... but I can’t.”
“I won’t tell Jules!”
“The problem is not Jules.”
“What is it then?”
“The problem is me and... I don’t want to do it.”
“Dean,” she whispered, trying to kiss me again, but this time I stop
