Dating Mick Jagger

She came up to me in the bar and caught me staring after him as he left. "Like, omigod, he is so cute!"
I remembered to close my mouth, and giggled. I fell into a nasty giggling habit during high school and have spent the last few years trying to work it out of my system- six months ago I'd have said, I'm Not a Giggler (not to be confused with me saying I'm Not a Smoker, which is an entirely different kettle of fish) but times change.
"I know."
"Have you... I mean, have you got a photo?" I nodded, blushing slightly- blushing at the drop of a hat came part and parcel with the whole giggling thing. "Um," she went on, "do you think I could have it?"
"I beg your pardon?" I spluttered, spraying a mouthful of Cosmopolitan across the bar.
"And could he... Well, would you get him to sign it for me?"
"Forgive me if I'm right, but you want a signed photo of my boyfriend?"

I told Stuart later. "Well, can you blame her?" he asked, stretching lazily on the couch, black shirt unbuttoned. "I mean, I am quite attractive."
He caught me staring and I felt myself turn pink. "Do you want a drink sweetie?" I asked, fleeing to the relative safety of the kitchen area."
He waited for me to come back, before "You know, I quite like this blushing thing you've got going on these days."