Page 138 of How to Win the Girl

Some would say it was as good as her pussy, but she’s made it clear we’re not discussing that today.

I keep my mouth closed.

Goddamn, it’s hard to behave. Torture, almost.

I want to flirt and say things that are going to shock her into blushing, but like she said;it’s ten in the morning, and this isn’t the time or the place.Maybe she’s a breakfast person, but not a morning person?

I’m also not trying to hear about a sex ban.

I don’t even know what that is.

“I propose we keep our hands to ourselves for the next five dates.”

I stop chewing and gaze across the table to judge her sincerity.

“You want to keep your hands to yourself for the next five dates?” I can live with that, I think.

“No.Us.Both of us keep our hands to ourselves.” She laughs, eating more pancake. She looks so fucking adorable when she chews, nibbling like a squirrel, nose scrunched up.

“And you want to do this because…”

“So we can get to know each other on an emotional level and not just physical.”

She’s making no sense. I do like her on an emotional level.

“Daisy. I’ve spent more time talking to you in the past three weeks than any woman I’ve ever met, including my mother. Do you know the last time I video chatted with a female?Never.”

And I mean never.

“I think for my own peace of mind, I’d like to at least try it.” Her tone is firm; she’s already made up her mind that this is what she wants.

“Where did the number five come from? How’d you decide five dates was the magic number?”

She shrugs. “It felt like a good number? Three is too few, and eight seems like too many.”

I have no idea what to say to this logic.

None whatsoever, but me being at a loss for words around her is nothing new.

“If this is what you want, we can give it a go.”

There isn’t much I can say about it, unless I want to cut her completely loose, yeah?

Five dates.

It’ll be like hell week my freshman year on the football team when we got hazed by the older players to prove our loyalty and shit like that.

Yeah.

Five dates. I can do it, no problem.

“Really? You’re cool with it?”

“Sure.”

In my pants, I feel my dick go limp. Whatever hope the little guy had for a casual rub over the jeans next to the truck as we kiss goodbye is gone, the chub I had when I laid my eyes on her a puff in the wind.

A fart, if you will.