Then it’s a deal, we’re friends.” […] “Can we just make one conditional rule here? That if we get into a situation where we know—absolutely—that we’re going to die, we can have—“ She pulled her hand away. “Don’t say it!” He did. “Sex.” She glared her disbelief. “You are such and asshole!” “I am,” Ian agreed. I’m afraid that accepting me for who I am comes with the territory when talking friendship.” “Stay in the shadows, asshole,” she said, then turned to stalk up the lawn toward the deck. “Thank you,” he said as he headed for the shrubs. “I appreciate our open-minded acceptance of my asshole-ishness.” And he wasn’t sure, but he could’ve sword that he heard Phoebe laugh.