“You’re horrible at picking women, Matt,” I say.

“Well maybe next time I’ll let you pick. How about that?”

"Perfect,” I say with a grin. “But that means you’re not allowed to date anyone until I say.”

“Oh god,” he groans dramatically. “You’ll have me living like a monk until I’m old and decrepit.”

I give him a smile but don’t say anything. A celibate Matt is the last thing I want. He has no idea how much sex is in his future. It’s ...