“Fletch,” I start, walking into my office, waving him on. As we pass by the children, they snicker and whisper, the girls more stirred up than the boys. We reach the office, I close the door, and ask, “Why are you here?”
 
“I came to see you because I knew this was your lunch break and you’ve been ignoring my texts and calls.”
 
“Maybe I need some space.”
 
“I respect that.”
 
“Clearly, you don’t.”
 
“Look, Fiona, I’m not here to argue with you. Or to crowd you or upset you. The opposite, actually. I realized our wires have been crossed and it was better to just come to you, face to face, and say what needs to be said.”
 
“You couldn’t wait until I wasn’t working?”
 
“If you’d answer my texts and calls, I could.”
 
“Fair enough. What do you want to say? What needs to be said?”
 
“I would like to ask you out on a date.”
 
“A date?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“Why?”
 
“Because I like you.”
 
“That’s it?”
 
“Isn’t that enough?”
 
“After seventeen years of teasing me, of that stupid nickname following me around like a poltergeist, now you suddenly decide that because I saved your nephew you want to date me?”
 
“It’s not like that.”
 
“Then what is it like?”
 
“I don’t know. Let me find out what it’s like by spending time with you. Let’s both find out what the other is really like. Do we have to define this? Let’s explore it.” He grins. “Let’s explore each other.”
 
“I think you’re trauma bonding with me and getting that confused with having feelings for me.”
 
“Trauma bonding?”
 
“We went through something emotionally intense together. You helped me. I saved your nephew. But that doesn’t mean we should date.”
 
“That’s not why I’m asking you out.”
 
“Is it because we kissed?”
 
“That’s not why, but it certainly adds to all the reasons why.”