"I'm not arguing."
"You're laughing."
"I'm allowed."
I carried her down the hall.
The bedroom door was open. I kicked it the rest of the way and walked her in.
I dropped her on the bed. She bounced once.
"That's how you do it?"
"That's how I do it."
She came up on her elbows. Her hair was a wreck. The gray shirt had ridden up to her ribs. She was already laughing.
"That was undignified."
"Are you good?"
"I'm great."
I started to crawl up over her. She pushed at my shoulder with one hand.
"No."
"What?"
"Lie down."
"Astrid."
"On your back, Ford."
She pushed at my shoulder again, and I went where she pushed me. I rolled onto my back, laughing. She came up to her knees beside me, put one knee on either side of my hips, and sat down on me.
She looked down at me. I looked up at her.
"Hi," she said.
"Hey, yourself."
"You're staring."
"You're on me."
"Is that a problem?"
"That's not a problem."
She pulled the gray shirt up over her head.
There was nothing under it.
"Sweet Jesus."
"Yeah?"
