"Sonnet Eighteen," I murmured, thinking he recited beautifully.
Hell, forget his recitation skills. How many guys in this age of instant messaging even knew Shakespeare anymore? His amused little half-smile played over his face.
"Clever and beautiful. How could any man settle for a mortal woman?"
"Easily," I returned.
My friends' misgivings suddenly loomed up in me.
"You could, you know."
He blinked, and his rapt look faded, giving way to exasperation.
"Oh. Not this discussion again."
"I'm serious—"
"And so am I. I don't want to be with anyone else right now. I've told you that a hundred times. Why do we keep talking about this?"
"Because you know we can't—"
"No buts. Give me some credit for being able to control myself. Besides, I'm not with you for sex. You know that. I'm with you to be with you."
"How can that be enough?" It never had been for any other man I'd known.
