“And how will we know I’ve lost? It can’t be anything so simple as hanging out together, or calling you. It has to be something I wouldn’t ordinarily do.” Low, she murmured, “Something to justify that confidence of yours.”
“We’ll know I’ve won when you try to hold my hand.” Tony grinned. “All you have to do is avoid the urge to grab onto these.” Tony raised his hands wiggling his fingers. “These big strong warm hands.”
“That’s almost /too/ easy.” She smiled slyly and lifted a hand to press against his. His fingertips overtopped hers by half an inch or more. “And will you be doing anything — particular to win?”
“Not a thing besides being my normal painfully charming self.” he smirked. “And what will you be doing to try to prevent me from winning?”
“Let me see … if you take /my/ hand, then you lose. Yes?” She scraped her fingernails down, curling her fingers inward. “I’ve no skill at flirting, but if you fall for me …” She couldn’t finish, breaking into laughter.