He looked down at me with those sleepy, half-lidded eyes… and I got lost in their green depths again, waiting to hear what he would say.
Like, for instance, Your EX-boyfriend, Kaitlyn. Which means you can do anything you damn well please.
I KNEW that was what he was going to say.
Or, You can tell yourself anything you want, Kaitlyn, but we both know what this is.
Or, Maybe I want it to be a date.
Or, You really think that paying for your food is going to change anything that’s going on here?
Or –
“Okay,” he shrugged.
Oh.
Hadn’t expected that.
“…yeah?” I asked, a little stunned.
“Sure. I understand,” he said, and gave me a friendly smile.
“Oh… okay… cool,” I said, not quite understanding why I felt so deflated.
I reached into my purse, pulled out a five, and held it out to him.
“Yours was about eight bucks,” he said calmly. “With the fries and drink.”
I paused – and then, slightly annoyed, I pulled another three dollars out.
“Plus tax,” he added. “So… another fifty cents should do it.”
I stared at him openly now, even more irritated.
“Fine,” I muttered, and reached back into my purse –
“Jeez, I’m kidding,” he laughed, and pulled the five out of my hand, leaving behind the ones.
Now I really was flustered.
“Hey, I owe you this!” I said, holding out the dollar bills.
“You paid for the movie.”
“So?”
“So you better keep it, or you’d have to tell your boyfriend you took me out on a date,” he said with that insufferable (oh so sexy) grin of his.
Damn you, Derek –
“You’re taking the three dollars,” I said.
“Then you’re going to have to put them in my pocket yourself,” he smirked, and turned and walked off to grab a table.
Gritting my teeth, I stuffed the dollars back in my purse.
And tried really, really hard not to watch his ass as he walked away.
I tried even harder not to imagine myself stuffing the dollar bills into his back pocket… and what it would feel like with my hand in his pants, my palm cupped against his firm ass…
I failed miserably.
20
As advertised, though, we did just talk about the movie.
At first.
“What’d you think?” he asked as our food came and we started to chow down.
“It was awesome.”
“Hell yeah it was.”
“What was your favorite part?”
“Well, we know what your favorite part was,” he teased.
I giggled, then caught myself.
I have REALLY got to stop doing that.
But giggling around him was almost second nature now… though I hated it.
“No… actually, it wasn’t as hot as I thought it would be.”
I didn’t add what I was thinking:
I’ve seen hotter butts.
One in particular.
“Oh, naked guy in the showers almost getting killed by a couple of gangsters wasn’t sexy enough for you?” he laughed.
“It was a little disturbing.”
“That was kind of my point. But, hey, you still got to see his ass.”
“Can we please stop talking about Viggo Mortensen’s ass?”
“Whose ass do you want to talk about, then?” he grinned.
“Nobody’s.”
“What about… Michaelangelo’s David?” he asked. “That’s a pretty great ass, right?”
I walked into the trap before I realized it had been set.
“That’s not the part I’m used to looking at,” I said – and then blushed furiously as he burst into laughter.
“Oh my God, the truth comes out!” he howled.
“Shut up!” I snapped.
“Want to go back to talking about asses?” he asked as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
I decided to go on the offensive.
“What’s your fascination with men’s asses?” I asked with an evil leer.
He grinned and shrugged. “I’m completely secure in my ass-omeness.”
“Your what?”
“Like awesomeness, but with an ass. Ass-omeness.”
“Oh… my… GOD,” I said as I rolled my eyes.
“Hey, I’ve got a great ass,” he said nonchalantly. “Or so I’ve been told.”
DO NOT comment on that, Kaitlyn. Do NOT comment on that –
“What was your favorite part – or was it Viggo Mortensen’s ass, too?”
“No,” he laughed, then settled down into a thoughtful mode. “I liked how it ended.”
“That was the only part I hated,” I said with a frown.
“But it was still beautiful,” he argued. “He had a job to do, and he didn’t want to endanger her. He loved her so much that he let her go.”