Nichole knew a lot about growing up being different from everybody else around you. She also knew a lot about people assuming you were gay, although with Nichole, they were mostly correct. She laughs a little, another commonality she didn’t expect to find with Adam. “I was a weird kid too. I mean, I still am a weird kid, but I was one back then too.” She laughs again. “I was a theatre nerd, what kind of weird kid were you?” She finishes her cigarette and very promptly lights another one. She wasn’t ready to go back inside just yet. “Girls are way more fun. A lot more drama though.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Nichole says with a wink when he mentions the rarity of receiving compliments from her. She coughs, choking a little on the smoke of her cigarette when he mentions breaking her in half. She simply wasn’t expecting the conversation to turn that way. Not that she was against it. “I’m stronger than I look,” she says, flexing her non-existent muscles. “I bet I could beat you in an arm wrestle.”

“Awww, you were an awkward kid?” Nichole asks, her little smirk appearing across her face again. She couldn’t imagine it, but then again, she was a late bloomer as well. “Did you have a hard time talking to girls back then? Were you just a little nerd?” she teases, her eyes flickering across his body. “Would talking to me have scared you?”

She laughs, reaching up and feeling his muscles. She was 5’6”, and it felt like Adam absolutely towered over her. “Nah, I think I could take you,” she says, pretending to be unimpressed with his size. “Could probably pick you up and throw you.”

“I bet they’re all kicking themselves now, Black,” Nichole agrees with a grin. “I’d fucking kill myself if I ran into anybody I went to school with. There’s nobody there I’d ever want to see again.”

Nichole absentmindedly feels Adam’s muscles a little more as she thinks to herself. “You think you could pick me up?” she asks genuinely.

Nichole smirks too when Adam mentions his “downstairs” business. “You seem pretty proud of that,” she says with a laugh. But it was good to know. Nichole had hooked up with enough people to know when it felt like that’s where a night was headed. “I never expected to have a conversation with you about anything going on under your clothes.”

“Do it,” she dares him, stepping closer to him. “Prove it. I bet you can’t.”

Nichole raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “Maybe too much information. Maybe I wanted to find that out on my own,” she says with so much casualness that it was hard to discern if she was flirting or not.

She lets out a little yelp when Adam picks her up, putting her hands on his shoulders and looking around from her new height. People on the street turn around and look at them, and she gives them all a little wink. “Okay, you’ve proved yourself, I guess you’re strong.”

“Don’t read too much into it, Adam, I flirt with everybody after a while.” She waved him off and looks back towards the party. “Do you want to go back in there, or do you want to get out of here? Maybe get some dinner somewhere? I’m starving.”

“Two or three Nicholes, what a horrifying thought.” She laughs. “Glad to know you could defend us against any clones of me that decide to pop up.”

Nichole laughs, throwing her head back. She loved when her snark was met with more snark. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it was, you caught me,” she jokes as she begins walking down the street, assuming Adam would follow behind her. “What are you feeling? Chinese food? Italian? You’re paying, by the way, so make the right choice.”

“Yeah, Adam, all of those fights, all of those yelling matches, they were just because I wanted in those sweet pants of yours,” Nichole continues the joke, speaking way too loudly so that everybody around them could hear her.

“Ah, Italian sausage it is then!” She says with a wink, grabbing Adam’s arm and leading him down the street to a small Italian restaurant that she knew a few blocks down. “What’s the other half? You’re Italian and what?”

“You look alright in those jeans, don’t give yourself too much credit.” Honestly, Adam looked great, but she could never admit that to him. He looked nothing like her ex-husband, or really like anybody she had ever dated. Pretty boys like him weren’t really her type. But here she was, entertaining some idea of going to dinner with him.

“Sure, sure. I’m full Ukrainian Jewish. I get all of my worst traits from it,” she jokes, turning a corner and stopping in front of the Italian restaurant she had in mind. “If you tell anybody I let you take me on this little impromptu date, I’ll deny it immediately,” she says, holding the door open for him.

She flutters her eyelashes at him in a mocking way when he calls her eyes pretty, and then rolls them. “You’re fine. You’re very pretty,” she admits, grinning. “Too bad for you, I don’t kiss pretty boys.”

“Good, good. This will be our little secret then,” she says with a smile. “Italian sausage and all.” She goes into the restaurant and finds a table near the back. The place was dimly lit and quiet, they were some of the few people here. “We should get some wine, really set the mood.”