He laughs at that. “Come here.”
Feet propped up on the coffee table, I fold my arms and tilt my head back saucily, staring him down. “Doubtful.”
He narrows his eyes. “Amy.”
I glare back at him, loving the way he turns my name into two threateningly low syllables. “I’m terrified.”
“You should be.”
My muscles almost eject me from the chair at that. So. Weak. “Careful, I might die of fright here.”
He pushes off his stool at the counter with one smooth movement, eyes dancing with mischief. “Amy. Come here.”
The thing I hate about this is he knows I’ll eventually cave. I can say ‘no’ to anyone. I’ve said no to students, children, parents, and the leader of a sorority, which took more guts than I'd need to turn down President Obama.
I think I’ve said no to the guy over there grinning at me. Twice. Ever. And the thing is, half the time I start out with the intention of saying no, but somehow I end up saying yes, knowing I’m choosing to say yes, and wishing I could do otherwise. It’s like mind control or something, and I totally don’t have the same effect on him. Not fair, anyone?
I lean my head until it rests on the back of the chair. “I hate you.”
He laughs again. “No you don’t.”
He knows that all too well, and he makes sure I know he knows. I sigh and get up, watching that irritating little grin on his face grow with each step I take. “You suck.”
He pulls me in and tips my chin up with one hand. “But you love me anyway.”
And then for a few minutes I'm not even thinking anymore. When we surface for air, my head spins like a psychotic merry-go-round as I wrap my arms around his waist. Wowzaaaaa. “You are so bossy,” I mutter, head against his chest.
His breath is warm on the side of my face, and I can hear the grin in his voice. “Face it, you love it when I boss you around.”
Painfully so, and I will never admit it.
“Admit it.”
“True,” I say.
He laughs. “Told ya.”
I groan.
Fail.
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So yeah, I suck at updating. Sorry about that. Hope this made up for it :-)
