We keep up the banter all during dinner and I can tell both of us are fishing for information through the bickering. “So, you’re a Daddy, huh?” She asks on the way home.
“I am,” I reply.
“No doubt,” she says. “You turn left up here.” As I make the left, she says, “Second right.” I make the right and she says, clearly irritated I didn’t take the bait before, “No doubt you’re a Daddy.”
“Oh?” I ask, holding back the chuckle that desperately wants to escape.
“It’s clear you just want to tell a girl what to do,” she says. She seems deflated when she realizes it didn’t come out as viciously as she intends. “This triplex,” she says and I pull into the driveway.
I get out of the car and walk around and open her door. She rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything as I walk her to her door. She opens it and says, “If you think you’re getting a good night kiss, think again.”
“Fair enough,” I say.
She rolls her eyes and turns around, standing just over the threshold. “Of course, if you really were a Daddy, at least one worth a second glance, you’d fuck me like a real man.”
She intends that as an insult.
I take it as an invitation.