He licked his lips. “I actually know where that connection came from.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It has to do with the famous lover, Casanova. Rumor had it that he ate fifty oysters a day to build up his stamina. Somehow, they associated the oysters with sex for that very reason.”

“Well, it takes a Casanova to know a Casanova, I suppose.” I winked. “So, really, what you’re saying is, it’s more like folklore. There really isn’t a scientific reason?”

“Well, have you ever looked closely at an oyster?” he asked.

“No, can’t say that I have.”

“It looks like a labia.”

“A labia…”

“Yeah, you know, the—”

“I know what a labia is.” I briefly fanned myself with a napkin.

“Eating an oyster is kind of like…” He hesitated. “Well, you know what I’m getting at.”

Chills ran down my back as I stared at his lips. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“So, maybe Casanova was…practicing his technique,” he said.

“Interesting theory.”

“Isn’t it?” He smiled.

Desperately needing to move away from the sexual topics, I said, “Anyway, what I just ate—snails—are absolutely not meant to be eaten.”

“Neither are cows or turkey and all the other things we consume every day.”

Pondering that for a moment, I said, “I suppose that’s true.”

“Speaking of turkey…have you spoken to Rory?”

Ugh.

Why did he mention him?

“No, I haven’t, actually. It’s better that way. And you don’t have to badmouth him to make me feel better. I’m a big girl.”

“Well, technically, I feel bad for him.”

“Why is that?”

He took another sip of wine before he said, “Because he got dumped.”

Wait.

What?

Did he not know the truth about what happened between Rory and me? It felt like the entire world knew.

“I didn’t dump him. Where did you hear that?”

“Jordan didn’t use those exact words, per se. I just assumed the break up was your choice. Rory was always so whipped.”

“Well, it wasn’t…my choice.”

He’d been drinking his wine but stopped mid-sip. “Wait a minute. Hold up. He broke up with you?”

I nodded.

He repeated, “Rory…broke up with…you.”

“Yes. You want me to have to say it?”

Channing’s expression turned serious as he put his glass down. “I’m sorry…I’m just…I’m floored.”

“Yeah, so was I.”

He proceeded to pour me more of the chardonnay.

I held my palm out in an attempt to stop him. “What are you doing?”

“Call in sick for the rest of the afternoon. I want you to tell me what happened with that fucking fool, and I want you to have more wine and relax while you’re doing it. Plus, it’s my first day here and my only weekday off. That’s reason enough to play hooky.”

As a teaching assistant, I didn’t exactly have the kind of job where you could just bail on work without a dozen things falling apart. But I couldn’t remember the last time I took a sick day. I was enjoying Channing’s company and really felt like unloading on him. I wanted him to tell me Rory was an idiot for leaving me. I wanted him to make me feel better, even if it didn’t really change anything.

Channing tilted his head. “Come on.”

“You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”

“Fuck, no. I’ll chain you to the chair if I have to.”

I chose to ignore the muscles between my legs contracting at the thought of this man chaining me to a chair.

It didn’t take much to convince me. I’d really made the decision to stay when I’d taken that first sip of wine. I knew we were fully staffed today at work, so in my mind I was able to justify calling out.

“Alright. I guess I can text my boss and make up an excuse.”

“Perfect.”

He got up to take our plates to the sink while I sent a message to work, making up a sudden illness as the reason why I couldn’t return for the remainder of the afternoon.

He called over to me, “Stop feeling guilty, Amber.”

How did he know that was exactly how I was feeling?

“Perceptive, aren’t you?”

I noticed that the kitten had followed him over to the sink.

Channing loaded the plates into the dishwasher. “Up for dessert?”

“Considering what we ate for lunch, should I be concerned?”

“I promise, it’s not anything weird. In fact, I’m a hundred percent sure you’re gonna like what I got.”

He grabbed a small paper bag off the counter and brought it over to the table before taking out two cake pops.

A big smile spread over my face.

He held them up. “You want the pink or the brown one?”

“What are we…five?” I laughed then answered, “Pink.”

I took a bite and thought about the fact that white wine and cake pops really complemented each other well. I should do this more often. But the truth was, I wouldn’t have even thought to do this, to take this time for myself in the middle of the day, if it weren’t for Channing. My kitchen had never been filled with so much life.