Page 12 of The Longshot

I can’t help but see this as an opportune moment to crack a joke—when in doubt, spew some humor out.

“Like what you see?” I rid myself of my embarrassment and I re-find my confidence as I puff my way forward. “Because if you do, there’s much more to unravel if you care to indulge...”

Her eyes dart up with a disgusted look written along her face. Now this, this I’m unfamiliar with.

“Yeah, right.” She rolls those pretty little eyes of hers to the back of her skull, attempting to slam the door shut.

I stop it.

“Hey.” I use my hand to keep the door from closing. “Hey, I’m sorry. Alright?” I drop the charm. “It’s a force of habit. I just… really need a cake. Okay?”

With one hand on the door and the other placed on the side of her hip she scoffs. “Looks like you’ve already got one all over yourself.” Her voice is as sweet as it is sour, I’m a fiend instantly.

I can’t help but play along. “Well...” I attempt to pick the frosting from my jumper. “Shouldn’t that tell you why I’m here, darling?”

With some unease she re-adjusts herself—displacing her weight from one leg to the other as she leans into the doorframe. “Don’t you know how to read?” She snaps out of it, gesturing yet again to the tortuous sign on the window—“closed”.

I briefly entertain the point she’s arguably trying to make and follow her gaze to the sign, though in the back of my mind, a part of me can’t help but wonder why she’s continuing to entertain this conversation if she’s so adamant that she’s not going to help me.

My mind is electrified with ideas.

“I don’t know.” I lean up against the doorframe, an action that prompts her eyes to wander towards my biceps.

Perfect.

“Maybe I uh—need a few lessons,” I propose. “Think you can help me out?” I rub my thumb along my bottom lip in temptation as she appears to ponder the thought—boosting my already inflated ego.

I knew I could work my charm on her.

“You know what…” She opens the door fully, folding both arms across her full chest. “Sure, I’ll give you some lessons.”

I’m caught in a daze, left scolding my wandering eyes from staring down at her cleavage before they widen in disbelief from her words.

“Wait… really?” I can’t help but question her receptiveness. “You will?”

I don’t have much time left until I have to be back at the baby shower, but lucky for her, I’m a quick learner—if you know what I mean…

“Mhm.” She nods her head, prompting a few strands of her ash blonde hair to fall in front of her face before she pushes them back. “In fact, how about we start now. You ready?”

Like a school-aged boy I nod my head enthusiastically, gleaming down at her as she interlaces her delicate hands as one.

“Okay,” she speaks with confidence. “I want you to try reading my lips. Think you can do that?”

I’ll admit, I’m not much of a reader, but seeing just how perfectly plump her lips are, suddenly it’s about to become my new favorite hobby.

“I think so,” I throw back at her confidently.

“Perfect.” She nods. “Let’s begin. We…” she mouths.

“We,” I repeat back to her.

“Are…”

“Are.”

“You’re getting it,” she says with assurance, smiling with delight. “Good job. Last part, okay?”

I get caught up in just how rosy her cheeks are as I nod my head and reciprocate the smile. At this point, I don’t give a toss about Coach’s so-called timer. I’m getting taught a lesson by the hottest girl in Crawley. Give me detention for all I care—as long as it’s her who’s supervising it.

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