When I go to pull out my wallet so I can carry her over my damn shoulder, she pulls away and sits back on her stool with an apathetic exhale. “Well, what do you think?” Her nonchalance is a pure contrast to how electric she was a second ago. “About what?” “Am I still rusty?” Rusty? “That’s how I’d get any guy in here.” She stirs her drink. My heart slows when I realize she showed me exactly what I had asked. She was proving she’s not cocky, she’s fucking confident.
