Thank God. The worry tightening his chest, that he might somehow have offended her without even realizing it, eases on a sigh. And she's not sorry for what she said, but how much did she say? How much did he--?

He has to know. To know where he stands, if nothing else.

"Pippa ... if it's not too awkward--" Please don't let it be too awkward. "--I'd like to know what happened. I know I made plans to kiss you the next time I saw you." He can't keep a warm smile off his face or out of his voice. "I remember singing you a lullaby. I'm pretty sure that was real."

Grasses of May, man, spit it out! "But I also remember telling you I want you ... talking about ways I wanted to make love to you." Deep breath. "I know I didn't say anything I didn't mean, but I'd like to know how much of it actually made it out my lips and to your ears."