“I’ll tell you what no guy wants any female to know.” I take another sip of my coffee. “So, you know when you’re at a club dancing, having a good time with your friends? Almost always there’s some random guy who comes up to you?”
“How do you know?” Stiles interrupts. “We’ve only been together, oh I don’t know, since…forever,”
“Oh my god dude, hakuna your tatas. You’re sitting right next to her, of course she gets hit on when she goes out.” Rolling my eyes, I continue, “Anyway, a guy comes up to you and maybe offers up some small talk, or maybe to buy you a drink. There’s a chance you may say no, or perhaps a small voice in the back of your head is thinking ‘this guy only wants to get me drunk and take me home’, which then reverts back to you most likely denying the drink. You with me so far?”
She nods. “Yes, and that’s so true!”
“I know my women.” I chuckle at her dirty look. “But what if this guy has a friend. Say…this friend comes up in the middle of the conversation, or whatever is happening between the two of you, with maybe some shots or drinks? Aren’t you less likely to decline the free shot or drink?”
“Hmm, I guess I would be.”
“Especially if the friend is drunk, or at least buzzed, by the time this happens. Because then, it would ease your mind even further, correct?
“Yeah, probably. If it’s coming from his friend I wouldn’t think it’s a ploy to get me drunk, just him being friendly and wanting to have a good time.”
“Exactly.” The loud clap from my hands echo. “But we’re not being nice, Holl. It’s a total fucking ambush. Whenever we were single, it was bro code. I’m chatting with a girl, Stiles—purely for the purpose of an example—already knows he’s to show up a few minutes into our conversation with shots and/or some kind of drink. If my attention is on you for at least five to ten minutes, it’s the silent horn to help me move in. Before you know it, you’re having a great time, you’re letting loose, and you think maybe, just maybe, leaving with me could be a good idea. At the end of the night, everybody’s happy.”
Her eyes go wide. “You’re kidding me,” she breathes out. “That’s so…”
Here we go. She’s going to rip me a new asshole.
“Brilliant! I would totally go for that and get royally ambushed.”
“Yeah?” I say, a huge grin appears. “See? This particular play has about a ninety-five to a ninety-nine percent success rate.” Stretching my arms out and yawning, I continue, “It’s basically foolproof. And people say women are hard to figure out? I say, challenge accepted.”
“Unless…” she says.
“Unless?” Now I’m curious to see what kink she’s found in the best plan ever.
“What if she doesn’t drink? All of that planning and scheming will be for nothing.”