" So Lex was psyched. She made her way into the restaurant, Lights Out, and spotted Driggs toward the back. He was once again wearing Uncle Mort’s ill-fitting old suit, and once again, he looked ridiculous.
But still hot. Driggs could wear a tap-dancing walrus costume and still look hot.
He did a spit-take as she approached. “Holy shitballs,” he said, scanning her up and down. “You look gorgeous.”
Lex laughed. “Thanks.”
“You’re wearing a dress,” he informed her.
“And yet I haven’t burst into flames. I’m just as surprised as you are.”
“Well, warn me next time so my heart doesn’t explode.” He got up to pull out her chair.
She snickered. “Pretending to be a gentleman, are we?”
“Gotta try at least once a year, or I’ll lose my license.” He ran a hand up her leg and grinned. “Nice gams.”
She leaned in to kiss him, sniffing at the tart scent of his aftershave. “Nice face. "

― Gina Damico , Scorch (Croak, #2)