Page 28 of Lorran
Did those cheesy moves—the humble brag about his dick, the cocky grin, the waggling eyebrows—actually work? He trotted out tired moves worn smooth from use. The worst part was she knew what he was doing, and she didn’t feel compelled to make him stop with his tacky flirtation. It was sort of fun.
This was flirting, right? She hadn’t done it in so long she barely recognized it. Still fun, though.
“How many tattoos do you have?” she asked.
“Several. You?”
“Two,” she said, swept up in the moment and forgetting the format of the game.
“Show me.”
“Nuh-uh. No skin, remember?” She wagged a finger. Heaven help her, she was flirting back.
“Tell me the design.”
“Magpies, both of them. A magpie is a type of bird,” she added for clarity.
“Two magpies,” he said.
“Two for joy. It’s a nursery rhyme.” He gave her a blank stare, so she recited the entire rhyme. “One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, and seven for a secret never to be told.”
“Why the need to count magpie birds?”
“Well, it’s a superstition, and however many magpies will determine if you have good luck or bad luck.”
“Sorrow.”
“Or joy,” she said with a nod. “It’s nonsense, but I like the lyrics and I think magpies are pretty.”
“May I see them?”
She almost said yes. Heaven needed to send a lot more help her way because she nearly reached for the hem of her shirt and whipped it off. The humble brag, cocky grin, and eyebrow waggling almost worked.
“I dare you to show me your joyous magpies,” Lorran said, hitting her with the full force of his grin. White fang flashed against his lavender complexion.
Well, Wyn had her answer. Her alien’s cheesy moves almost worked, but that just couldn’t go the distance.
“Huh,” she said.
“What?” he asked, still grinning.
She leaned forward and poked his cheek. “Huh, nothing. I mean, I don’t know how much success you’ve had with that smarmy grin and asking girls to take off their shirt, but I don’t see it.”
Confusion replaced his grin. She put two fingers at the corner of his mouth and forced his lips back into a mockery of a smile. “How much do you practice smiling? You should definitely practice,” she said.
“I don’t need to practice. My smile is naturally radiant.” He pushed away her hands, and Wyn chuckled.
He was handsome, and she suspected that she’d like the real person under the layer of bullshit if he ever let her get to know the real him.
“I’m not hearing a no. I want to see your Earth magpies,” he said.
“No skin. We agreed to rules.”
“You also said no touching, and you broke that rule.”
“True. How about I draw you a magpie?” She flipped the sketchbook open to a blank page at the back. Her pencil flew across the page. Lorran watched her with interest. She twisted in the chair, blocking his view with her back.
If she ever got to know the real Lorran, the person under the easy charm and cocky grin, they’d definitely show each other their tattoos. She felt a little self-conscious about her figure, being taller and thicker than average, but Lorran did not seem concerned about the pudge at her waist. He did, however, act overly concerned about her butt. She could feel his gaze practically burning a hole in her jeans.
