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“Mr. Jawline,” he said. “That’s a new one. I should get that on business cards.”
“What’s my name?” I asked. “You have to have one for me, right?”
“I would call you Miss Nice Tits, but that feels weird.”
“No,” I said. I arched my upper back a little. “You mean that?”
“I’m not supposed to look right now. It would be rude.”
“But I’m offering you a look. Give me your thoughts… up close.”
Mr. Jawline laughed. “You’re in a very good mood tonight, Sage.”
“What? How…” I inched back. “Whoa. That’s creepy.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Your phone. You were showing me… you’re logged in on that site.”
I glanced at my phone.
Oh. Right.
My name appeared at the top of the website.
I sighed. “I still have nice tits though, right?”
“Perfect tits,” Mr. Jawline said. “Now, can we get back to business here? Where are we going to live?”
“I’m debating between an apartment and a house.”
“That’s a big decision.”
“I know. A house is like… forever?”
“You can sell a house.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“Well, why don’t we start with an apartment then?” Mr. Jawline offered. “Then we can dream up our… dream house. Together. We can have it built.”
“Near the beach? Like on the rocks or something?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“So you’re the spoiling type?” I asked.
Mr. Jawline leaned even closer to me. “With tits like yours, you get anything you want in life, Sage.”
Yeah, Mr. Jawline was smooth, sexy, cool as hell, and I really couldn’t wait to tell everyone I knew about the story of how I picked up a guy at a bar, never found out his name, and convinced him to pay for a hotel room for the night so we could have crazy sex.
I finished the two drinks.
Was I drunk by then?
Nah.
Tipsy, yes.
I felt good.
