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“You know, most people at least try to hide when they’re eye-fucking someone.”
“Take you out.” I grin evilly. “Something like that.”
“If you play your cards right, I’ll even pay.” “Will you put out?” “Not a chance.” I laugh. “Friday it is.” “See you then.”
“Bye … sweetheart.” He shakes his head on the way out the door. “Not a date,” he calls.
Griff: So … date with Ford, huh? Orson: Dammit, Art! Ignore him. It was a date. Orson: WASN’T. I meant wasn’t. Payne: … Orson: I meant wasn’t! Fucking autocorrect. We just met up for dinner and kinks. Orson: DRINKS! Art: Oh, this is gold. Orson: You know what, I don’t need to explain myself.
That doesn’t make you special—people make mistakes all the time.
