“We could always do something else.”
“Sure.”
“Something a bit more…”
I get up suddenly, grabbing my pint, looking for a different seat.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, confused.
“I’m not interested.”
“You don’t even know what I was about to suggest.”
“I can assure you that I won’t like anything you suggest.”
She looks at me as if she doesn’t understand what I’m saying.
“There are loads of guys here,” I say, gesturing around the room. “Surely one of those would be happy to oblige you.”
She stands up, too.
She’s wearing a short, black dress that shows off her legs, with a plunging neckline that leaves nothing to the imagination. Her hair is long and dark and falls over her shoulders, and her dark-eyed expression tells me exactly what she wants.
She slides her hand down my chest and I clench my fist around my pint glass.
“Don’t,” I warn her.
“Don’t what?”
“Touch me.”
I take her hand and push it back towards her.
“What’s your problem?”
“Me? Nothing. You’re the one who’s looking for a problem.”
“Maybe I’ll like this problem.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Let’s give it a try.”
I grab her by the arm and drag her across the room, heading for the toilets. I push her up against the wall in the hallway, pressing my body into hers.
“This is yours if you want it. Sure you’re still interested?”
She looks at me through narrowed eyes.
“Someone could see us,” she says, uncertain.
“I don’t mind.”
“We could go and get a drink, take things a bit more slowly…”
“I prefer this. Take it or leave it,” I challenge her.
“I don’t think that’s how it works…”
