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Why, though? She was an eleven out of ten.
“Are you drunk?” I inquired.
“Not even a little bit.”
“Then maybe someone told you the really good prostitutes hang out at this bar, dressed in sweats? If so, you were sadly misinformed.” I frowned. “I think.”
“You’re suggesting I pay for the company of women?” He took a slow sip of his drink. “Maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe women pay for my company.”
“So you’re the prostitute?”
“You wouldn’t pay for my company?” He was teasing me now, for sure. His eyes glimmered, and somehow he looked even hotter when he was giving me a hard time.
If he actually smiled at me, I’d probably pee my pants.
“I probably couldn’t pay for this cocktail,” I confessed, entranced by that glimmer in his eyes. “So I’m afraid you’re slightly out of my budget.”
He took another sip of his drink, set it on the bar, and said, “How about I give you a freebie?”
I laughed too loudly, nervously, as he seemed to be waiting for a response to that. “I’m sorry, did you confuse me with someone?”
“You seem to be the one who’s confused. About how interesting you are.”
I took a long, fortifying suck from my straw, pondering this mind fuck. “I thinkyouneed to pay more attention to detail. Your observational powers seem way off.”
“So, then, tell me what’s not interesting about you.”
“Nope. No way.” He wanted the goods on me? I felt much more comfortable awkwardly flirting and cracking jokes than actually divulging any personal bits.
“Just tell me one thing about you,” he pressed. “You can even choose what it is.” For a total stranger, he was very bossy.
I kinda loved it. Which was not great.
“I’m not telling you anything,” I pressed back. “You get three questions that I will answer honestly, and beyond that you’re on your own.”
“Three?”
“Yup.”
“Honestly, huh?”
“Swear to God. Use them wisely.”
He seemed to think about that. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen. That’s seriously what you wanted to know?”
“I didn’t see the bartender check your ID. I just wanted to make sure you’re not too young for the dirty thoughts in my head right now.”
Okay, that didn’t sound like he was teasing.
This is not a drill. He’s definitely trying to pick you up.
I quietly cleared my throat, aiming for non-flustered. “How… responsible of you.”
“Do you like delayed gratification?”
Jesus.I took a long, deep pull of my cocktail, the warm fuzzies making this conversation go down easier. “Um. Yeah. I guess.”
