“Staring isn’t going to get you answers anyway. Teenage girls are an anomaly.”
“You basically cheated.”
“Can’t cheat when there are no rules.”
I prop my chin on my palm and chance a quick look back at the girls. “Why do I get the feeling you live by those words?”
“I could confirm or deny, but I think it’d be more fun to stick around and find out.”
Strangely, I agree with him. “Okay. The girls. Clearly … friends.”
Ford makes an obnoxious buzzer noise. “And that’s the game. Two-one to Ford Thomas. You owe me a lap dance, sweetheart.”
My eyes fly wide, but maybe not for the reason he thinks.
He’s quick to lift his hands. “Fucking joking. Calm down, hetty.”
“Hetty?”
“You’re my hetero-bro. Don’t worry, I get it. The whole date thing is me lightening the mood. You don’t need to worry about me coming on to you or taking advantage or whatever shit crossed your mind. I’m naturally flirty, but obviously, it makes you uncomfortable, so I’ll quit—”
“Don’t.” My hand flies out to cover his forearm before I can stop it, and I quickly snatch it back again. “I’m not uncomfortable. It’s not that. It’s …”
He eyes me like he’s trying to read whether to believe me or not, andscrew it. He has no idea how close he was with his lap dance joke.
A groan sneaks out, and I lean closer. “Promise to keep it to yourself.”
Mischief fills those dark eyes, and he leans in too. “Pinky swear.” He actually holds out his pinky, so I link it with mine. And just like when I touched his arm, he’s so warm, so … well, it just feels really nice to touch another person again.
“Iusedtobeastripper.”
Ford blinks at me. His mouth slowly inches open. “Come again?”
“I used to be a—”
“Oh no, I got that. I mean, I think I’m about to come again.” He pulls a face and reaches down between his legs. “Fuck me, that’s hot.”
My head falls back on a laugh, and I point at him. “Our secret.”
“You’re telling me no one knows?”
“No one.”
“Not even Art?”
“Do you seriously not know whatno onemeans?”
“Wow. No need to get feisty …” Ford still looks a little stunned, and it feels good to have caught him off guard. “Why’d you tellme?”
“Well, we’re friends, right? Last thing I’d want is for you to think I’m some homophobic dickwad because you made a lucky guess.”
He cocks his head. “So the flirting is still cool, then?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to discriminate …” I spread my hands like there’s nothing I can do rather than tell him Ilikeit when he flirts with me. It’s fun. Different. He keeps things interesting.
“Tell me, does saying all I can picture is you taking off your shirt and thrusting on that bar top fall under flirting or creeping?”
“It definitely toes the line.” We meet eyes. Smiling, always smiling. “But I’ll allow it.”