“Do you have any friends who aren't Phillites?"He scowled at me. "I hate that word. I really hate it.""Why?" I asked, genuinely confused. I gestured around the room, with its leather furniture and slick electronics. "It fits.""So do Speedos, but I don't want to wear those, either." He stared at me through narrowed eyes. "Let's try this: You tell me something you actually like about me."I snuggled into his lap. "I like everything about you.""Except my friends and socioeconomic status."I looked up at him. "Are you mad?""No,Ella,I'm not mad."I wasn't entirely sure I believed him. He looked a little grim. I felt a tug of worry. "I like your mouth," I whispered, tracing his lips with my fingertip, coaxing them up at the corner. "Among many,many other things."The mouth was a good start. I especially liked what he did with it.So much that I didn't realize what his hands were doing until I felt cool air.”