"The number of times I've been challenged to a good ol' fashioned duel I can count on... exactly zero fingers," Blake admits with a laugh. This guy, Nico was so different than any other man he'd ever met. Even the guys that come in for tattoos and he had to admit, it was interesting.
And kind of hot.
His mouth curls up. "Maybe but you look like someone who would fit in on a runway too," he says with a little shrug.
When Nico admits that he'd be able to find him if he had the McLaren, he blinks and is unable to help the flush creeping up his neck. "Knew there was a real reason there," he smirks, not even denying that there was some small part of him that liked the idea.
Blake pulls out his cellphone from his back pocket, opens it, and saves the contact. "Now you don't have to track the car if I win," he teases. Did he hate the idea? No.
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And kind of hot.
His mouth curls up. "Maybe but you look like someone who would fit in on a runway too," he says with a little shrug.
When Nico admits that he'd be able to find him if he had the McLaren, he blinks and is unable to help the flush creeping up his neck. "Knew there was a real reason there," he smirks, not even denying that there was some small part of him that liked the idea.
Blake pulls out his cellphone from his back pocket, opens it, and saves the contact. "Now you don't have to track the car if I win," he teases. Did he hate the idea? No.