“I’m pretty sure I’ll get arrested if I do either of those things,” I answer, but my heart is beating more quickly with every second that he continues to look at me.
Suddenly, I’m thinking of breaking my own rules.
Thinking of saying to hell with the fact that he’s an eleven, maybe a fifteen, and I’m an eight on a very good day.
Thinking of going for it since I have nine women telling me that he’s very definitely interested.
I’m a little tipsy, a little aroused and there doesn’t seem a better time or a better reason to just go for it.
And that’s when he turns away, not only breaking our eye contact but going so far as to swivel his stool around to face the other direction.
And just like that he’s another missed opportunity. The story of my damned life.