“Completely?” I asked, trying not to look over excited.
“Completely,” she confirmed. This time I did look her up and down. There was no way of telling if there were clothes under her coat or not. My brain whirred. Why was Pippa naked? Why was she telling me this?
The busy pub hummed around us; people talking about work, dissertations and affairs and completely unaware that the most beautiful girl in the world was in amongst them in a state of undress, and the nerdiest man in the world was in a state of panic. She flicked her curly blonde hair out of her face.
“Why?” I asked. It was the best I could do, and I needed to keep the conversation going.
“I thought it might be fun,” she said.
“And is it?”
She licked her luscious lips. “Oh yes.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“No, but you might just be joking. I'm not as gullible as I look you know?”
“It's true,” she said. “Not even little lace panties.”
I blushed. Why did I blush? She’d only said panties.