Adam was staring at Danielle’s tits, in a sort of absent-minded way. It wasn’t like he was the only one. She had the kind that guys dream about, round and full and jiggling all over the place as she moved behind the bar. She understood very well the relationship between her neckline and her tip jar.
And she liked the attention. Not all the time, of course. There were always guys who took it too far, but a handsome young professional like Adam? She didn’t mind him looking at all.
“You ready for another?” she said. His beer was down to the mostly-backwash stage. He looked up, a little sheepishly, and she popped her shoulders back, as if to say “Hey, my tits are down here.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said slowly. He wasn’t, really. He was in no shape to drive, first of all, and it was getting late. He’d already gotten the first text from his wife, just making sure everything was ok. He texted her back, saying he went out with the guys because one of them was leaving. Which was true, technically. He did go out with the guys. They had all gone home.