"Uh-huh."
"You're missing out."
"Spare me the offer to enlighten me."
"You think I go down on any gorgeous woman who asks?"
"Yeah."
I can't exactly deny the allegations. "You think that little of yourself?"
"You can have low standards and still be with someone primo."
I can't help but smile. She makes an excellent point.
A wave rolls beneath us. Crests. Falls. Crashes into the sand and turns to white foam.
"That one was better," I say.
"It's your turn." She holds up her eight fingers. Nods to my mine. "You didn't drop your finger."
I do. "Never have I ever taken a self-defense class."
"I'm starting to think you entered this game under false pretenses." She drops a finger.
"I play to win."
"So do I." She turns to the horizon. Watches a set roll in. "Never have I ever suggested someone sit on a surfboard and talk instead of surfing."
"You suggested this."
"Did not."
"You started it."
"Absolutely not."
"All right. We both started it. Lose a finger."
She gnaws on her bottom lip, turning over my words. "Fine." She drops to seven fingers.
I'm down to six.
I pull my feet from the water. Copy her cross-legged position.
The air feels cold against my wet skin, so I move closer.
Closer.
Until I can feel the heat of her body.
Fuck, it feels good.
Too good.
I look down at her
. "Never have I ever chickened out of giving a tattoo."