Page 64 of How to Lose at Love

“This is flirting. Role-playing is flirting.”

“It is?”

She groans, frustrated. “Use your imagination for once, would you?”

My imagination? Not sure I have one of those. Probably haven’t used it since I was six and playing dragon slayer in our huge yard with my wooden sword.

Fine. If she wants me to use my imagination, I will.

“Hey, sexy, come here often?”

Ryann hesitates. “Out of the gate you call me sexy? Dude. No.”

“Why can’t I call you sexy?”

She sighs, setting the glass on the counter. “First of all, that’s gross.” It is? “Secondly, you don’t know me—you can’t just call me sexy like it’s my name. And asking if I come here often…what are you, Joey fromFriends? No.”

Jesus Christ.

No wonder I hate dating—there are all these rules.

“Do it over.”

I squint at her. “Are you always this bossy?”

“No, but you need my help, remember?”

“How could I forget when you keep reminding me?”

Behind us, the doorbell rings. A few moments later, the sound of my brother stomping down the stairs; I hear him open the front door. Hear the feminine voices, the high-pitched greetings that sound forced and fake.Those chicks don’t give a flying fuck about my brother…

“Oh good, an audience.” Ryann smiles. “Okay, now pretend we’ve been out a few times. Try to act like you’re comfortable around me because we’ve been alone.”

“We have been alone.”

“Likealonealone.”

I raise my brows.Alonealone? “Is there a difference?”

When we hear the sound of my brother and Tiffany andwhatsherfacegetting closer, Ryann shifts so she’s standing beside me in the kitchen, hip touching mine.

She turns to face me, face tilting up. Rises up on her toes and presses her nose into the side of my neck. “Mmm, you smell good.”

My dick twitches at the contact.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Flirting,” she coos in a voice I’ve never heard before, fingers tracing the pocket of my T-shirt, making my nipples hard. “Is it working?” She laughs. “If it matters, youdosmell really good.”

She doesn’t back away.

“Thanks. I showered.”

Ryann laughs. Runs her hand over my pec muscle. “Wow. Do you work out?”

“Are you being serious?”

She giggles. “I was kidding—obviously you work out, but wow. You’resostrong.”

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