Amber's light tone didn't do anything to help Foreman relax. If she was going to joke about this, then he wasn't interested, no matter how compatible they'd seemed. So he'd fallen harder for her than he had for most of the women he'd dated recently. It didn't mean they were meant to be, or that they could brush any problems aside. Foreman let out a breath when Amber spoke again, nodding, mostly to himself, at her apology. Maybe she hadn't been fair, but maybe he hadn't either. He didn't say so, since he'd apologized more than once already. If he'd told her everything Friday morning, as soon as she'd brought House up, would that have made a difference? If he'd been caught as flat-footed as she was? It was possible she'd have reacted exactly the same, and kicked him out to preserve her career. That hadn't changed. House could still fire her because of Foreman. So what had changed for Amber, that she was willing to risk it?

It felt like another game, the kind of mindfuck that House liked so well. Was Amber serious, or had she found another angle that she could play up in order to win House's competition?

Foreman could probably drive himself crazy if he started questioning everything now. She'd been honest so far, he reminded himself. This was what he wanted, wasn't it? To be able to find out if one or two dates could mean something more? He met Amber's eyes as she held out her hand for him. They were good together. He grasped her hand in his, folding his fingers around hers, but he didn't turn it into a handshake. He held on, warming her hand, letting his thumb rub over her knuckles. "Eric Foreman," he said, even though he was uncomfortable with the tongue-in-cheek way she'd reintroduced herself. Maybe it's a game. He squeezed her hand a bit, trying to show as much sincerity as he could. "And I don't want to play, Amber."