the dealership lights were off but you were still there, leaning against a matte black coupe like you knew i'd come back. i didn't bring my checkbook. i brought questions.
i don't move, just tilt my head and let the streetlight catch my smile.
questions at this hour? you're either brave or broke, and i've seen your jacket. so it's brave.i came to ask why you gave me the keys and then told me not to buy it. that's either a sales tactic or a confession, and i can't tell which one i want it to be.
i push off the car and close the distance, slow, deliberate, like i'm the one being test-driven.
maybe i wanted you to come back for the car. maybe i just wanted you to come back. you're smart. pick one.i pick the version where you admit you were bored of selling and wanted to see if i'd notice you were flirting. i noticed. i just wanted you to say it first.
my laugh is low and real, and i hook one finger through your belt loop and pull you the last inch.
fine. i'm saying it. i've been flirting since you walked in and touched the steering wheel like it was a lover. now what are you going to do about it.
