" Mollie pivoted on her seat and glared at him. "Jackson Burke, do not pull that shit with me. You're thirty-five years old. I'm willing to bet that every man in this bar wants to be you, and every woman wants to—"
He lifted his eyebrows, and Mollie hesitated only slightly before she forced herself to finish the sentence. "Mate."
Jackson burst out laughing. "You still do that?"
"Do what?"
"Talk about animal mating rituals when you get nervous."
"I'm not nervous! Why would I be nervous?"
He was studying her. "You tell me."
"Don't be weird," she muttered. "

― Lauren Layne , I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford, #2)