“So – did you tell her?” Dylan looked at me hopefully – I’d confided in him years ago how I felt about Brooke and he’d always been on side about the whole thing.
I shook my head. “Nah – it wasn’t the right moment.”
Dylan rolled his eyes, “Man – it’s never gonna be the perfect moment for anything – if you don’t make a move sometime soon – someone else is gonna come along and snap her up – she’s a hot girl – you know that better than anyone.”I frowned at him. “You’d better not be getting any ideas, dude.” I warned him.
He shook his head at me, “What? You reckon? Nah,” he shook his head again, a little more emphatically – “she’s not my type at all.” He said firmly.
“What is your type?” I raised an eyebrow. As far as I could tell, Dylan pretty much liked to nail anything that had a pulse.
He grinned, “Blondes with big tits.” He held his hands up as if he had a pair right there.“Great – you can take Deanna off my hands.” I mumbled into my pint.
Chas...Too Easy to Pretend.