Page 397 of Rock Me All Night
"I haven't tried."
"Of course not." He looks me up and down. "If you applied yourself, you'd be taking home a different guy every night. With all due respect and platonic intention, you're smoking hot."
"I'm not smoking hot."
"Fishing for compliments is just as unbecoming as lying."
"I'm not fishing. I'm pretty. Cute even. But I'm not hot. My shoulders are too broad—"
"Your shoulders are hot."
"My boobs are too small."
His gaze goes straight to my chest. "In that getup, sure." He reaches for the zipper of my hoodie. "You mind?"
"No, it's fine."
He unzips slowly, slides the hoodie off my shoulders. His fingertips linger on the backs of my hands. Then they're gone and he's tying the hoodie around his chest like some preppy kid on his way to SAT classes.
"You look ridiculous," I say.
"Gotta tone down my sex appeal if I'm gonna be your wingman. Don't want guys to feel like they can't complete."
They can't. And judging by the confident smile on Tom's face, I'm pretty sure he knows it.
He brings his hands to the bottom of my tank top. He looks down at me as if to askokay?I nodsureand he adjusts the top for maximum cleavage potential.
He stares at my chest. "Small, maybe, but very nice." His fingertips brush against my tattoo. "And this is fucking sexy."
My cheeks flush. Sense. I need to regain it. "I'm not saying I'm unattractive. Just not hot. I'm cute. Like your friend's little sister."
"You are my friend's little sister."
"You know what I mean."
Tom's eyes go to my chest. "Smaller breasts are more responsive."
I'm tempted to ask how he knows this, but the answer is probably experience with hundreds of pairs of breasts. That's hundreds of mental images I can do without.
"You're judging again."
"I'm not."
"It's science. All women have the same amount of nerves, give or take. The smaller the breast, the more concentrated the nerves."
"Educational."
"Plus you have nice tits."
My cheeks flush. "How do you know?"
"That see through tank top you were wearing to torture me. Worked you know. I was fucking—"
"Think you're crossing the line."
"See." He takes a step backwards. "Look how good we are at this platonic friendship thing."
The band finishes their set with a bow.
