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She gasps. “No fair. You can’t bring out the dimples when you ask me out. It gives you an unfair advantage.”
My smile widens. “Unfair advantage?”
“You know what I mean.”
I make sure both of my dimples are on display. “How about now? Will you go out on a date with me now?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “What part of no are you not understanding? And why did you bring me to an alley to ask me out? Are you embarrassed of me?”
I rub a hand down my face. How did we go from ‘my dimples are a weapon’ to ‘I’m embarrassed of her’? Women! I’ll never understand them. But they are fascinating.
“I wanted to explain my past.”
“You’re serious. You’re going to tell me about your past?” I nod and her eyes widen. “You’re not worried I’ll sell your story to some sleazy magazine?”
“Nope.”
She taps her cheek. “I wonder what the going rate is for spilling the beans on Fender Hays’ past is?”
“Do you want to know or not?”
“Oh, I want to know. I want to know everything. The more the better. Those rags pay by the word.”
She’s bluffing. She’d never sell my story.
“I trust you.”
“You should. I’m a very reliable person. Hardworking, quick to pick up new tasks, not afraid to get my hands dirty.”
“Are you reciting your resume to me?”
“Is it helping?”
“I said I trust you.”
She motions with her hand. “By all means, begin with the spilling the beans portion of the day.”
“I had a serious relationship once,” I blurt out. “Her name was Vicki.”
“Vicki with an ‘I’ I bet. She probably was a cheerleader.”
“I met her backstage at one of our concerts. She was a fan.”
“Half the world is a fan,” she mutters.
“I took Vicki to the hotel room and we… ah… um…”
“Had sex,” Leia fills in.
“Yes,” I nod. “We had sex.”
“I don’t understand why you’re telling me about having sex with another woman. Pro tip. If you’re trying to convince a woman to go out on a date with you, don’t lead with I had sex with fans.”
“Let me finish,” I grumble.
“There’s the grumpy pants we know and love.”
“Vicki got pregnant that night.”
