“You,” Alex says, pointing at him. “Me,” he continues, pointing back at himself. “Married.” “Oh,” Nicky says. “Oh.” [It doesn't go any smoother after that.]

“You can’t be picked if you’re married," Nicky says, like it's obvious. “I’m not married,” Alex replies. “You’re marrying me,” Nicky says, his jaw set. “You haven’t proposed."