Foreman turned to face Amber when she shifted her position. Her apology, immediate and sincere, though hesitant in the way she worded it, was at once welcome and confusing. Foreman had been worried that not only wouldn't she apologize for her actions, she wouldn't even consider them worthy of an apology in the first place. Amber Volakis was never wrong, not without a lot of wrangling and some pretty pathetic begging on his part. Which was why he hadn't wanted to get into it.

Apparently he'd been wrong. Foreman took a breath, relieved at that much. If she was willing to talk about it, then so was he. None of those barriers where they couldn't even agree on what the problem was, let alone how to resolve it. "At Mickey's, you nearly crawled into my lap while you were telling me about a girl you'd slept with," he said, unable to hold it back any longer. She hadn't been pleased when he'd stopped her, either, although she'd taken the hint after a moment. "That's not exactly taking it slow."

Letting his head fall back against her arm behind him, Foreman watched her doubtfully. "Honey, I don't mind waiting," he said. "I'm not gonna do anything you don't want. But you're coming on to me one minute and then pushing me away the next. I lie down and it's too fast, I sit up and it's too slow. I know we're not going to bed tonight. I don't need that to like being with you. But you're making me feel like I'm wrong no matter what I do."