She paused hearing that. It was hard to know exactly how he felt. Jackie would never know how hard it sucked to be unable to touch anyone. She couldn’t imagine it the limitations it provided, or the neurosis it would accumulate into. However, she was almost proud that, in a small manner, he’d actually flirted just the tiniest bit. It was a huge step forward from the hermit she’d met at Sunny’s that couldn’t be bothered to talk to the girl he’d just killed for.
“Good,” she said, taking another sip from her beer. She looked at him the entire time, not tearing her eyes off of his. There was some small battle of will going on with that look—as if she was determined not to be the first to look away. A visual version of chicken. “’Sides, ain’t like ya gotta look up at the naked girls or anythin’. Ya just gotta look at me.” She smiled at that, as if with that statement, she was giving him an amazing alternative.
She patted the counter top in front of her. “Just think of it as any ol’ bar. Smelly men sittin’ around, cute bartendin’ girl, cheap beer. It’s got all the classic staples.”