“That’s not a skill,” Eliza said on their fourth date. “That’s a surveillance state.”

She kissed him anyway. Some skills, she decided, were worth keeping.

She was. The good kind.

He didn’t ask follow-up questions. He just handed her a flashlight and said, “Teach me.”

The Lockpick and the Linguist

“Urban adolescence,” she said flatly. “My mom locked the pantry.”