Man's Best Wingman
He teased me.
“You know how to ruin a good fantasy.” I sighed, shaking my head. Well, that killed the mood as the fantasy went awry as somehow, in the fantasy, a stapler didn’t get knocked off the desk, and in the heat of passion, Clay stapled his hand, killing the mood.
“Being practical, plus I bet I could make reality better.” He winked though I don’t know how much he believed that. Shit, maybe he does believe in karma or bad luck or whatever.