Adam raises an eyebrow. ‘Well, this would be fake flirting.’
‘I don’t know…’
‘Do you want him to wish he’d never upset you? That he’s a damn fool for losing you?’
I glance over at Mitch. Holding hands with the Christmas fairy woman, he heads over to a tall poseur table by the door. He glances at me once more, making my heart pound out of my chest. Thirteen months he let me think he had proper feelings for me. And to try to make that stupid insulting pact with me on Christmas Day?
‘Yes,’ I say to Adam, necking the rest of my drink. ‘Yes I do.’
Adam’s eyes sparkle with mischief. ‘Well, dear Phoebe, let me show you my ways.’
* * *
Another drink in and it turns out that I might not be too bad at flirting after all. A lot of it is just touching the other person a lot, giggling, leaning in close and also touching yourself on the neck or the hair or the collarbone.
Adam nestles in close and whispers into my ear. ‘Whispering can be a good flirty technique too.’
His breath tickles my neck and sends a tingle to unexpected places. But that’s just basic ASMR. It could be Horace the creepy IT guy whispering to me and I’m sure that would give me unwanted tingles too.
‘Should I whisper back?’ I ask Adam, swaying a little to the left as the vodka makes itself known in my bloodstream.
‘Sure,’ Adam shrugs.
I lean in to his ear and notice that up close he smells like Bondage, which makes me giggle and also recoil a little.
‘What is it?’ Adam laughs at me laughing.
‘Bondage.’ I pull a face.
‘I usually smell amazing. Very manly and fresh.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Okay, Mitch is looking over. Whisper something to me.’
I lean in again. ‘Spssssss spssssss blah blah blaaah.’
‘It has to be something real, Phoebe. You have to actually say something.’
‘Why? Mitch can’t hear what I’m whispering.’
‘You want it to look authentic, don’t you?’
‘Yes?’
‘Then you have to whisper something real. Tell me a secret.’
I lean in for a third time, feeling the heat of Adam’s neck, warm on my cheek. I swallow, feeling more than a little tipsy now. ‘I sometimes worry I’m not a nice person or that I’ll never be happy.’
Adam looks at me for a long moment. I wriggle in my seat at his intensity. Why on earth did I spill something so genuine? I didn’t have to do that. Stoopid vodka.
‘Sorry, that was a weird thing for me to say.’
Adam’s face is very serious. ‘No, not weird. I used to feel pretty much exactly like that.’
‘You did?’
Adam sighs, taking a gulp of his drink. ‘I was pretty depressed a few years ago. I found a therapist and started medication and I’m much happier now.’
