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“Because you want to get laid tonight?”

I shake my head slowly. “It might be difficult for you to believe, but I don’t have a problem getting laid. If I wanted to just get laid, I could go and do that. I just want to spend the night with you when neither one of us is holding back or dancing around what’s between us.”

“Between us?”

“Is it just in my head?”

“I’m not answering that question,” she says.

“I think you just did.”

“You’re a guy who knows what he’s doing in bed. I won’t deny that.”

“I’m into you,” I say. “And I want to act like I’m into you instead of us both pretending whatever this is between us isn’t happening.”

She sighs. “Boston is really important to me.”

“It’s just a time-out. But I get it. No problem. We can continue to have a nice time here tonight.” I’m not going to pressure her into anything. That’s the last thing I want to do.

“A time-out?”

“You’re right. It’s a bad idea,” I say. “We should keep this simple.”

She nods. “Yeah. Maybe.” She pauses. “But it’s not in your head either.”

My gaze flicks up and meets hers.

I should ignore it, pretend that I never mentioned any kind of time-out. It was a stupid idea. I like Avril. I want to help her with her Boston project. I just don’t like messy. I don’t want an angry ex on the warpath around town, telling people I’m not to be trusted. I’ve survived in New York without that ever happening. I don’t want to ruin that now.

But as she sits across from me now, I can’t think about anything other than how she feels, how she smells, how she tastes.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” she whispers.

“You have no idea,” I bat back.

“It’s written all over your face.”

There’s no answer to that. Avril has been front and center of my mind since I met her. Maybe I’m not the poker player I thought I was.

She swallows. “We could just wait until Boston is dealt with.”

I nod. “Yes, you’re right.”

Except then things might be different.

“But a time-out…” she says, like she’s thinking aloud. “You’d have to promise to erase anything from this moment from your mind.”

“I’m not sure I could erase anything about you from my mind.” The words are out before I realize what I’ve said.

Our gazes are locked and we sit in silence as our plates are cleared.

“Just tonight,” she says. “And nothing counts. It’s just a time-out.”

I reach across the table for her hand and suddenly I wish we were at Serenissima rather than in the middle of a museum. I wish we were among friends. But then I suppose I wouldn’t have Avril to myself and there’s nothing more valuable than that.

We thread our fingers together.

“Nothing I say or do can be taken and used as evidence against me,” she says.