He looks taken aback at hearing me curse. “I’m just tryin’ to spare you a broken heart, lassie. I’m agreein’ with you, it’s a terrible idea.”
“I’m not going to fall in love with you, McGregor. Not from kissing you or from anything else.”
Unmoved by my outburst, he casually consumes more ice cream while looking at me from the corner of his eye. “Oh, aye, now I remember. You said I’m not your type.”
“Exactly.” I say it emphatically, unsure if it’s him I’m trying to convince or myself.
Cam nods. “Exactly. So then there’s no problem.”
I sigh, remove my glasses, and scrub my hands over my face. I go into the kitchen, run the tap, splash water on my face, dry it with a dish towel. Then I put my glasses back on, turn, and look at McGregor on my sofa with his feet up on my coffee table, eatin
