Favorite Lines of the Day

Back to writing again. It's always a little hard getting back into it after I've been sick. Doesn't help that I have two projects going.

**

 

“I think he’d take you up on the offer if you asked him to dance.”

            Johnny pulled his gaze away from the door. The comment had come from behind the bar, from the black-haired bartender who was keeping his beers fresh.

            She wasn’t bigger than a minute, with long, long legs that didn’t seem to help her in the height department. Pale, slender, she was all blue eyes and white teeth. Her hair, obviously died, was a midnight bluish black, tied up in a heavy ponytail with a wispy fringe of bangs. She had a definite goth thing going – black tights under supershort cutoffs, skull-printed black tank top, arms loaded with bracelets, too much eye makeup – and he found himself liking it, even though that wasn’t his usual type.

            “What?” he asked.

            Her grin was too cheeky for this hellish bar full of old men, too bright and full of life. “That guy you’ve been staring at the last hour. I didn’t take you for the kind to crush on the DOT crowd, but I’m sure he’d think you’re purdy.”

            It took him a beat to catch what she meant, then he felt his cheeks flush. He’d been staring at the entrance, but he could see, given her vantage point, that it could look like he was staring at the man in the orange vest two stools down.

            “Oh…no, I’m -  I’m not–”

            She giggled, pressed the back of her hand to the tip of her nose to squelch it, and looked all of about sixteen. “I know,” she said, shaking away the last of her laugh. “You just looked so serious over there. I had to say something.” She flashed him another smile, this one almost shy and inviting.

            Johnny fidgeted on his stool. He’d never been any good at flirting.