“Uh-huh. Sure.”
Likely story.
I give Drew a pat on the arm, all but dismissing him. “Well, thanks for the lovely evening. Sorry we kissed, it’ll never happen again.” I toss my hair dramatically. “And by never, I mean—ever. Bro.”
There isn’t a self-respecting girl in this world who wouldn’t do the same, amIright?
“Did you just bro me?”
I nod with a laugh. Calling a guy bro is the only way I know how to keep one at an arm’s length or put him in his place.
Inside the house, the light to the living room goes on, and I see Gabby moving around, plate in her hand, probably about to park her rear on the couch and settle in for a movie.
“I don’t want to argue,” he says. “I didn’t mean nothin’ when I apologized, I just meant I should have asked permission first ’cause it’s the polite thing to do.”
The polite thing to do? Is he being serious.
“It’s a Southern thing.”
I lean against a post, crossing my arms. “Is it now?”
Drew nods emphatically. “Yes, ma’am.”
My eyes roll heavenward. “Okay, cool it with the Southern belle nonsense, you’re laying it on a little thick.”
“Does that mean you’re not mad at me?”
Am I mad at him?
Eh.
Maybe. Maybe not.
“We’ll see.”
Drew moves forward, resting his hand on my hip. “How ’bout I give you my number, and you can decide later if you wanna stay mad.”
His voice is low, tickling the nerves in my lower half, deep and gravelly. He’s doing it on purpose, and it’s working, damned if it isn’t.
Slowly, I nod, powerless against this guy in front of me who smells good and tastes good and feels even better.
“I’ll allow it. You can give me your number.”
“Sassy little thing,” he mutters.
No one has ever called me a sassy thing and the thing is?
I like it.
* * *
Daisy:
Well. After much deliberation I decided to bite the bullet and shoot you a message. After all, what’s the worst thing that can happen…
What’s the worst thing that could happen? Sassy girl, if you’re saying that, you don’t know me at all…
You going to keep calling me Sassy girl?