Page 39 of Flirtasaurus
“Then most guys are wrong. Calliope, I think you’re cool as hell.”
What do I say to that?
“You keep me guessing. And you have a real way with words. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“All the time. Usually when they can’t keep up.”
“Oh, I can keep up.”
“Can you?”
“Oh, yeah. Don’t you worry about that.”
Is it me, or did the energy in the room just shift in a major way? It suddenly feels like we’re flirting. Is he flirting?
Oh shoot, did I say that out loud?
“Well, yeah. I’m trying to.”
“Trying to what?”
“Flirt. With you.”
Chapter Nine
“Maxie Ford!”
“Cramp roll!”
“Time step!”
“Double time step!”
“Triple time step!”
And just like that, we’re drunk and tap dancing. Well, he’s tap dancing. I’m drunk. Or at least pretty close to it. We’re about two hours into this impromptu date and… Wait a second,isthis a date? It’s certainly starting to feel that way. How do I feel about that?
I’m sitting on the floor, shouting out dance moves, and he is executing them… perfectly. It’s hilarious and impressive and… really surprising.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough. Your turn,” he says, a little out of breath.
“No way! I have an injured toe.”
“Oh damn, I completely forgot. Let me see.”
“My toes?”
“Yup! Socks off.”
“No way!”
“Why not? I told you, I did ka-ra-tay! I have lots of experience assessing injured toes.”
“Dude, you arenotassessing my toes.”
“But I thought you were used to being one of the guys,dude! Surely, ‘one of the guys’ isn’t shy about showing another guy her piggy toes?”
If there is one thing I am not, it’s shy. I whip my socks off in record time if for no other reason than to prove him wrong.
