You haven't lived until you've written a sex scene in a Starbucks.  Especially an awkward, tangled, emotionally charged sex scene involving a telepath.

Maybe there's a reason that the guy in the corner keeps giving me funny looks when I take a break to play peek-a-boo with his daughter.  I mean, I'm not wearing my "I'm writing the Naughty Parts!" t-shirt today, but perhaps he just knows.

Maybe he's a telepath.

I've been working up to using this song as a soundtrack for weeks, and the time has finally come. Heh. Yeah.  You see what I did there.