Re: Rink: Max & Dylan
[She considered his options.] Pretty eyes. No eyepatch. [Rejected. The rest of his suggestions got an eyeroll. Useless.] Pinky. [Pause.] Toe. Pinky toe. [He might have trouble balancing, but he'd still look hot. She assumed that kind of thing was important to her Cougar self. She had to look out for her future self, alright? Out of her three future sex options, he was the best. The babydaddy was weird. Jack was emo.
Foot tap. Foot tap. Foot tap. And she waited for logic to catch up with him, and to inform him about why she couldn't ask about the beer herself. Foot tap. Bingo!
She slid into the booth with him, same side, and then she climbed over his lap to sit against the wall; better to hide possible underage beer consumption.] I'm not. But that doesn't matter on the base. Don't make me bat my eyelashes at you for a beer. It looks like I have something in my eyes when I do that.
[She reached for the menu.] Do I get to go home with you?