“Oh come on, we can just chill out and enjoy each other’s company,” she argued, the idea being so irritatingly appealing that I couldn’t even form a sentence to counter it.

“Hmm,” I mused thoughtfully.

“C’mon, we can make it like our own club,” she continued, “I’m sure you’ve got alcohol and music!?”

“I may have a bottle of wine lying around somewhere,” I admitted, cursing my weakness.  Why couldn’t I just say no?  What was so hard about making up a false truth: “Spencer, I’m tired, and old, and I want to just go home and sleep – we’ll do it another time, I promise!”

“Excellent,” she grinned, “that’s settled then… plus it beats having to yell at each other over loud music.”

For some reason she still found it necessary to try to convince me, and I was too amused by her cute arguments to bother with making her stop.

“True,” I agreed.

“And at yours we’ll be able to hear each other,” she rambled happily.

“Spencer, I get it… really, I do,” I asserted, “but what if I don’t wanna listen to you?”

I grinned as she perked up a bit and tried to look offended.

“Cheeky!” she laughed.

“You know it,” I winked.

We fell silent for a moment, smiling at each other, feeling no need to do anything but just watch each other where we sat, enjoying being together.

“So, I’ll get the bill and we’ll go, yeah?” she asked, her voice a little lower and calmer than before.  Her eyes flickered over my face as she watched me.

“Cool, sure,” I nodded happily, all of a sudden feeling completely at ease.  Why was I panicking?  I didn’t have to sleep with Spencer… in fact, I was being presumptuous in thinking that was where it was going to lead if we ended up back at mine.  For all I knew she was a born again and saving herself for marriage, or something.

“Your enthusiasm is radiating off you in waves,” she said flatly, poking fun at me.

“I’m tired – it’s the food!” I cried.  “Leave me alone!”

“It’s cos you’re getting old,” she told me.

“You should know!” I practically sang.

“I’ll have you know I wear my age with pride,” she said with conviction, “and not like it’s a portent of impending death.”

“Keep talking…” I began, “and that portent of impending death that’s hanging over me will quickly be shifted onto you!”

“Ooooh, I’m scared!” she laughed.  “I’ll get the bill, shall I?”

“You do that,” I grinned.

She stood up and sashayed over to our waiter, not wanting to waste a single minute having to wait for him to come over to us.  I licked my lips in response to my watering mouth and eyed every curve of her body as she leaned slightly over the counter where his till sat.  I could picture my hands performing the act my eyes were indulging in, and it was all I could do to snap myself out of my daze.  If Spencer’s coming over, I’ve gotta control myself… this isn’t a game any more.