Chapter Twelve
After two episodes of me faking interest in the hunky, brooding British guy playing the Prince of Darkness, I decide to coax Sydney’s frisky side out by engaging her in some epic fondling. It takes a further ten minutes to get her eyes off of Tom Ellis and onto me, but once I have her full attention, we move to the bedroom, where we do the horizontal thing. Ahem.
We come up for air at just before sundown, at which point she tells me she has to jet. She smiles as we get dressed and doesn’t hold back when we engage in some goodbye tongue-hockey. But there’s something in her body language as she walks to her car that makes me wonder if my lack of beer has knocked me down a level or three on her personal cool-meter.
I’m not sure whether I should feel guilty or not. Nearly eve
