A while ago, I went downstairs and found him in one of the editing suites. I was wearing sweatpants and a sweater that’s just a bit short on me. He poked the bare strip of skin on my stomach.
“What’s that there, eh?” He had a mischievous grin. “Do you have abs? Can I see them?”
Cheeky asshole.
“NO!”, I bark, embarrassed, like a little kid.
I try to pass the burden onto him.
“Do YOU have abs?”
His bright expression fades a little.
“No…”
Then:
“Well one…”
Now it’s my turn to grin.
“Really? Can I see it?”
The words are barely out of my mouth when Johnny lifts his shirt to show me his skinny pale chest. I gave it a poke. He really did have just one ab.
The girl who just can't play it cool 