“It doesn’t matter,” I insisted.
“Oh. Come on. You can’t tell me that if I opened my mouth and started talking like Prince Harry girls wouldn’t drop—”
“You’re not a proper test case. Girls drop their panties now when you open your mouth,” I accused.
“Not every girl,” he shot back, lifting his eyebrows meaningfully at me.
“Oh!” I blew out an outraged breath and tossed a handful of popcorn in his face.
Chuckling, he grabbed a handful and hurled the stuff back at me. Buttery popcorn pelted me and my laugh twisted into a loud, indelicate pig snort.
At the sound, I clapped and hand over my mouth and nose.
“Oh, that’s nice.” He threw back his head, the tendons in his throat working as a deep belly laugh rumbled up from him.
I plucked a piece from my hair and flicked it at him.
His hand shot out and walked along my ribs. “C’mon. Do you always snort when you laugh. Let’s hear that again.”
I looked down at his hand and back at his face, arching an eyebrow. “Sorry. I’m not ticklish.”
“What?” He looked at me like I was crazy. “Everyone is ticklish.”
“Nope. Not me. I’m an anomaly. It’s a freak genetic trait. My mother isn’t ticklish either.”
“I bet you are,” he insisted, looking knowing and smug. And sexy as hell.
I shrugged and shook my head. “Nope.”
His eyes narrowed on me. “Well, let’s see then.”
I held out my arms, inviting him to tickle me again. “Go ahead. I won’t laugh.”
He stroked his chin, considering me for a moment like he was trying to decide his strategy.
“Come on,” I taunted.
“What do I get if I make you laugh?”
“You can sleep in the bed.” His eyes darkened and a flock of butterflies took off in my belly. I quickly added, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Well, that would be kind of dick of me.”
“Chicken.”
“Ohh.” He shook his head. “It’s on. Prepare to laugh.”
His fingers started at my ribs again and then drifted under my arms. Nothing. Well, nothing except that flock of butterflies in my belly got so seriously out of hand that I suddenly thought I might puke.
His wide eyes fixed on me with awe. “You’re not human.”
A burst of laughter escaped me and I held up a finger. “That didn’t count.”
He moved his head side to side as if deciding. “Debatable, but okay.” His fingers hovered clawlike over me.
I clenched my teeth, waiting for his touch again.
“I’ve got a new tactic.” He gripped the hem of my shirt and tugged it up.
I squeaked and grabbed his hand, stopping him.
“C’mon. Don’t be a prude. I can’t really tickle you properly through your shirt. That’s an unfair advantage for you.”
“You sure you’re not trying to get me naked?”