Another eye roll. “I got us here, didn’t I?”
“Sure, you got us here, but you pissed off the entire city of LA in the process.” I shrug. “Order me a double, animal style, and a strawberry shake.”
Rolling down the window, she stares at the menu. “They only have like two burgers to choose from and no chicken?”
I raise an eyebrow and dig out my wallet from my back pocket. “Who eats chicken?”
“Some people do.”
“Well, they don’t here. That’s why it’s so good. All beefy meat.”
What do you think she does now? Do you think she laughs in my face?
If you said yes, you’d be right. And it’s fucking cute as hell. “Boy, your game is so weak.”
“It is not.”
We order the same thing, park, and I’m impressed to see she eats a hamburger. Don’t most girls only want salads. . . or chicken?
She may have made a comment about chicken, but she devours that burger just as quickly as I do.
I lift my shake from the cup holder and watch her do the same, swallowing over the last bite of the hamburger. “So. . . better than Lil Johns?”
“It’sLil Woody’s. . . and no, it’s notbetter. But it was good.”
Christ, she’s hard to impress.
Taking the straw between her lips, she asks, “What do you do at night? Don’t you have parties to attend and girls to wine and dine?”
“Well. . . .” I chuckle, setting my shake in the cup holder. “I don’t recall the last time I ever wined and dined anyone, but no, I don’t go out much anymore.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
I smile. “It’s far more entertaining to me trying to convince you I’m worthy of fucking. And it’s taking up most of my wine-and-dine time.”
She laughs at me. Fucking laughs in my face. “Worthy of fucking?”
“Yep.”
And then she shrugs. As if my ego wasn’t ruined enough.
