“Any time.”
“You mean thank me for sharing my breakfast,” Colin tartly corrected me.
“You could stand to do a little less sharing,” I said. More because I felt the need to reiterate my position as The Person Who Wanted to Be His Only Boyfriend than out of any true regret that Joaquin cooked among us, obviously. I rather hoped he would be put in charge of Christmas dinner, but I wasn’t going to say so.
“You want me all to yourself? Then wow me at dinner tonight.”
“I told you, I’m not playing your stupid game.”
Colin shrugged. “Joaquin One, Dickie Zero. Sorry, Dickie; I’m rootin’ for ya, but that’s the score. Numbers don’t lie.”
“No? What does your driver’s license say you weigh?”
Colin tried to cover up his laugh by dropping his jaw in a great display of offense. “Minus one for ruden
