I sighed dramatically. “You wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the whole kidnapping thing. Don’t let it go to your head, Mister Big Ego.”

He leaned back to get comfortable. “I wouldn’t dream of it, babe.” A small tilt of his head had him looking at me again. “How many boys are you currently torturing other than me? I think I know of one other, but you’re such a little man eater.”

I focused on my milkshake in my hand. That was awkward considering I’d never slept with anyone and could count on one hand how many people I kissed for real. It was one. “Says the womanizer.”

“Touché.”

“How many women are you teasing?” If he wanted to play, I could play.

“She’s such a feisty one, isn’t she?”

I glared at him. I could be feisty. I bet there was a tutorial online about it.

“Lucky for you, you don’t know the first thing about me.” I dipped my tater tot and popped it in my mouth.

He eyed my choice of condiment. “I know you prefer honey mustard now. I know that you’re a good ice skater. You’re incredibly shy. You touch your necklace when you get nervous. Which, around me, you always are. Shall I go on?”

My milkshake was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

“I didn’t hear a rebuttal. I rest my case.”

Then, my tater tots became the most interesting thing. “Why do you have such a reputation?”

“Because people love to talk. They love drama and things that don’t bring light to their own shitty lives.” He pulled the straw to his soda up to his lips, challenging me to continue the conversation. “Why do you care so much about my reputation?”

I think he liked throwing me off kilter. “Who said I cared about it?”

“You did. Come on, do you really think I can’t tell your heartrate is hammering in your chest?” He leaned in, stroking his finger up my neck to my jawline. “That I can’t see the suspicion behind your eyes? Or that you’re curious about what it would be like with me? Maybe... you secretly like my reputation.”

His hand deserved the smack I gave it before quickly adjusting myself in the seat. “No.” Maybe. Heat quickly rose to my cheeks, and I avoided eye contact. “And that’s more than enough.”

“I already got my answer. Last question: where do you want to go next time?”

Next time?

Was this man trying to court me?

Not only was I asked to be someone’s girlfriend, but I was also now being asked out on a date by the type of man I swore I would stay away from.

What would my mother think of me?

That was a question, and I had to answer it per the rules we set indiscriminately. “I’ve never played baseball.”