"Yeah. It's called being an opportunist," she shot back, frowning at the implication that she was a whore. She never particularly liked being called names, despite the fact that she'd been called them all many times, and often--but she supposed it was better than being a slut. At least whores got paid for what they did, and Ino was a firm believer in using her sexuality to her advantage.
The fact that, had she been a guy, she would be a player didn't escape her. She didn't let it bother her either, though. Shame was for the people who'd done something wrong.
Still, she felt the insinuation dig under her skin like a splinter--a familiar splinter, but a splinter nonetheless. If she brushed him a colder shoulder as she passed him out the door, well, she could've done worse. It was just hard when he was doing little cute things like opening doors for her, though she highly suspected he only did it to mock her. To mock their pseudo-date.
Again, she wondered what the hell she was doing with him.
"I won't, trust me," she assured him--more like huffed. It occurred to her, as she was standing out on the sidewalk, that even after however-long they'd known each other, she still didn't know what kind of car he drove. Or bicycle he rode.
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