“You’re such an animal,” she said and smiled.
Trevor didn’t understand why she always said that. Yes, in the most literal sense of the word, he was a giraffe, but that wasn’t what defined him. It was as if his Ph.D. in neurobiology or the fact that he had studied under Paul Bocuse at l’Auberge du Pont de Collonges or his talent for cross-stitching didn’t mean anything to her. Maybe she wasn’t the one for him. If she couldn’t see past his scientific classification, perhaps she wasn’t worth pursuing. Then she might just be another stupid cow.
Music pairing: Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado