If I were a younger man, I’d probably make a move. I’d definitely make a couple of inappropriate comments to see how she’d respond. I wouldn’t be offering to sleep on the fucking floor, that’s for damn sure. I can’t push myself to do it, even with my buzz coming back. She’s old enough to be responsible for her own bad decisions, but I’ve made enough of them in my own life not to drag her into one she would regret in the morning.
“Did you ever think you would walk in on someone trashing your office and end up letting them spend the night?” Her eyes flicker, and a grin spreads across her face.
“Can’t say that I did.” I shake my head and chuckle.
“Kind of fitting.” She tilts her head slightly. “Superman stopping crime…”
“Superman versus The Zombie Cheerleader.” I nod. “I bet a few people would buy that comic book.”
“The real question is whether or not Superman would let her clean up the mess or just drop her off at the police station?” Ainsley appears to be actually pondering the question.
“I don’t know… He’s all about truth, justice, and the American way, right?” I shrug. “He’d probably just let the cops sort it out.”
“Does truth, justice, and the American way apply to zombies, though?” Ainsley takes a sip of her drink.
It’s clear she’s enjoying this theoretical
conversation, and it’s a lot better than the doom and gloom that clouded our earlier ones. I never thought all of the information Hudson used to rattle off about comic books would be useful, but it’s coming in handy.
“Technically you weren’t really a zombie, though.” I narrow my eyes. “You were just a cheerleader wearing zombie makeup. Superman is still Superman, suit or not.”
“Yeah, but Superman versus The Cheerleader doesn’t sound that good.” She laughs. “What’s he going to do? Send her to detention?”
“Perhaps.” I nod. “Or just drop her off at the principal’s office and let him sort it out.”
“I’ve been there enough to know how that would go.” She shrugs. “Let’s see—trashing your office, drinking, smoking…”
“Obviously out of dress code,” I add.
“Right, that too.” She laughs. “I’d get paddled for sure, and I doubt I’d be lucky enough to get detention. I’d probably get sent home for a few days.”
“Which gives you plenty of time to plot your revenge.” I take a sip of my whiskey. “It’s sure to be a hit, so there would have to be a sequel.”
“Exactly! It all comes full circle, and next time she’ll be ready for the Man of Steel to interrupt her plans.” She nods. “Kryptonite, right? Isn’t that your weakness?”
I’m starting to think it’s sitting right in front of me, with emerald green eyes that look like they could do a whole lot more damage than Kryptonite.
“You are correct.” I put down my glass. “I’ll be right back. The whiskey has finally made it to my bladder.”
“I’ll be here…” She watches as I walk toward the door.
Fuck. I feel so damn happy talking to her. I don’t even remember the last time I had a fun conversation and just cut up with someone. I was miserable long before the world decided to kick me in the balls. It doesn’t feel like I need to hide behind my proverbial mask with Ainsley. I get the impression this is the first time she’s taken hers off in a while too.
Is this some kind of fucking sign? Do I just need to let go of my inhibitions and see what happens tonight?
I see the way she’s looking at me. There is a simmer of excitement in her eyes, and I don’t think the conversation is the only thing she’s interested in.
I sure as fucking didn’t expect my night to go this way, but I might just see where it leads.
Chapter Seven
Ainsley
I feel more drawn to Lawson by the minute. I lied when I said I’d be too drunk to walk back to my hotel if I had another drink. I’m feeling it for sure, but not that much. I had so much adrenaline running through my veins after he caught us trashing his office that it’s a miracle I even feel it at all.
Lawson is so much fun to talk to. He isn’t condescending in a hurtful way, and he doesn’t speak down to me; he jokes about the things he doesn’t approve of in a way that doesn’t make me feel like utter shit for doing it in the first place. I can’t help but wonder if that isn’t something that has come with experience based on what he told me about the problems he had with his family.
I might be jumping the gun since I don’t know him that well yet, but it’s hard to believe someone had him locked down and let him go. Especially someone that he loved enough to try to make them change their mind. I’m sitting here drowning in the words I want to say, and totally scared of ruining the pleasant conversation we’re having.