Page 83 of Girls Will Be Girls
He smiles. “I was going for a run, but I spotted you and decided walking you to wherever you’re going seems like a better use of my time.”
“Hmm.” I try not to smile. “So thoughtful.”
“I also thought we could play a little game I invented.” He says.
“Do tell.”
“You said yesterday that we don’t know each other very well, and I want to fix that. So we can play a very nuanced game where you ask me a question, I answer, and then I ask you a question, and you answer.”
“That’s it?” I ask. “Where’s the game part?”
“For every question that goes unanswered, you get a strike.” He explains. “Then three strikes — which admittedly, I stole from another game — there’s a punishment.”
I laugh. “What’s the punishment?”
“You’ll find out.” He smirks.
“But how am I meant to give you the punishment if I don’t know what it is?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I won’t need a punishment.”
“So cocky.” I smile up at him. “Is there a prize?”
He stops us in the middle of the pavement, giving me his best smug smile. “Getting to know me is prize enough.”
I roll my eyes and keep walking, listening to him laugh behind me.
“So, you in?” He wraps his arm around my shoulder for a second, squeezing me into him. Lou’s whole easy affection thing is becoming addictive.
“What’s your favorite food?” I ask.
His grin lights up his face as I start to play his game. “Katsu curry.” He says. “Where’s your favorite place you’ve traveled?” He asks in return.
“Colorado. I loved the mountains.”
He smiles down at me again, and I get lost in him for a second.
“Where’s the campaign trail taking you today?” I ask.
“Is that one of your questions, too?” He smirks.
I roll my eyes. “No, it’s justaquestion.”
He pinches my side playfully, making me let out a tiny squeal while he laughs.
“No campaign today, hence the run.” He says. “Just a lot of write-up, but no socializing.” He lets out a long sigh. “Bliss.”
I retaliate with a poke in his side. “You’re socializing with me.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, you don’t count.”
Before my blush can envelop my whole body, he keeps talking.
“What time will you be back today?” He asks.
I look over at the boat in front of us, seeing people setting up.
“This sailing thing is meant to be a few hours, so not too late,” I say.
