Priorities being what they are, Dante smooths his fingers through his hair in a practiced way that transforms its previous dishevelment into something a little more deliberate. Only then does he stroll over to the dresser and pluck out a clean pair of boxers to pull on. And yeah he does it, finally. Even if he snorts a laugh at Jason.

"Nah, girls want skill, not scales," he attests as if an expert on the manner. "But don't worry too much about it, once you get a little practice under your belt I'm sure you'll do well enough for yourself."

Did he actually just wink?

"Anyway," he shrugs one shoulder, hooking a thumb toward the center of his chest. "I'm an excellent wing man."