"I don't believe it, Pinocchio," she says matter-of-factly, lifting her shoulders. I'm almost dumbfounded by his haughty display.
"You always see the good in everything, but I assure you there is none from me," I shrug my shoulders too, rolling my eyes, "it's just fantasies in your crazy head, Gina".
She flashes a lopsided smile and her eyes sparkle with something I can't quite decipher, but they provoke an annoying heat in my body that I try with all my might to throw away.
"If you only knew what kind of fantasies I have about you every night, Peter," she says cheekily as if she were talking about the weather or the traffic.
My stomach contracts in annoyance, catching me completely by surprise. I look at her incredulously and she looks completely calm.
But what the hell?
This ti
