Separate names with a comma.
He put an arm around her, his eyes warm. *** "Lots of things."
She blinked. "Er.. No?"
He chuckled. "I have, but rarely."
He nodded, closing the door. *** She offered her hand, cocking her head. "Yep."
He squinted at her. "Attacking birds.. are lame."
She watched him worriedly. "Do you need anything?"
He shrugged. "Italian?"
He opened the door. "Shall we?" *** "He is."
"I'm not."
She squinted at him. "I think you're hot always, but do you want me to take off the blanket?"
He nodded. "Yep. So what's number eight?"
"I'm done," he reassured. "Don't worry." *** She gave a nod. "Indeed."
"Whatever. I'm the one getting attacked here."
"That's different, baby." She kissed his forehead. "Are you hot? Do you need water?"
He pursed his lips. "Eight. It's my lucky number."
"Do it." *** "Yeah. He's smart."
"Hm. How rude of birds."
"That wasn't my choice.. Besides, I came back for you. I'm not leaving again."
"I know. That's why I'm letting you pick."
"Do it." *** "I think so. He's okay with being out companion, though."
