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"She wants to fuck me."
"Hate fuck you maybe."
"That's still a fuck."
"Fair enough." He pulls out his wallet. Takes out a fistful of twenties. "What do you say? We settle this Dean style."
"You're freaking me out."
"You chicken?"
"No." Seriously, what the hell is Ryan doing acting like me? He's the stable, responsible one. "A hundred bucks says I keep it in my pants."
"Bet you've never said those words in that order."
"Sure, how much?"
He shakes his head, that same you're ridiculous. Turns to her. "Good night, Chloe."
"Good night," she calls back.
He waves goodbye then makes his way out the door.
Leaving the two of us alone.
Chloe stirs as I get closer.
For a split second, her dark eyes meet mine. They flare with something—some mix of frustration and anticipation.
It fades from her expression as she stares at her paper.
Her fingers curl into her pencil. She focuses intently on a curve. Outlines a flowering rose.
"Can I see?" I ask.
"You're asking?"
"I have manners."
"You sure about that?"
"No. Maybe you should test me."
"Okay." She looks up at me. Pushes her lips to one side. Taps her chin. "Should you ask your subordinates about their underwear?"
"Shit. I know I've heard this one before."
She fights a smile.
"Yeah. Right? Show them you're taking an interest in their personal life."
"No."
"Fuck. Really?"
"Really."
"But what if your subordinate is wearing tights jeans that are driving you out of your mind?"
