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A heartbeat later his hand was on my arm, turning me around. Fury blazed again and I brought my hand up as he spun me, turning it into a slap instead of a punch at the last instant. I knew I hadn’t hit him very hard, but his head jerked to the side at the blow, and the sound seemed to reverberate down the empty street. I tensed for some sort of retaliation, shocked at myself that I’d struck him. But I wasn’t going to back down from this now.
“Give it a rest, Ryan!” I said, struggling to keep from shouting. “I’m sick to death of tiptoeing around you! I’m sorry if you don’t like the fact that I’m fucking the demonic lord—” I took a deep breath, trying to keep from shaking. “Y’know what? No, I’m not sorry. I’m a grown-up. I can sleep with who I want, and I’m sick of being made to feel like some kind of sleazy whore simply because you don’t approve of him! This is your problem, not mine!”
He simply stared at me in shock. I began to turn to walk away but he caught my arm again. “Wait, please,” he said, putting his other hand up as a block in case I tried to hit him again. Smart move on his part, because I was more than ready to do so, and this time it wasn’t going to be a slap. I was no expert in hand-to-hand, but anger was making up for the lack.
“Kara, I followed you out to tell you that I’m sorry,” he said, voice gruff. “I’m being a dick.”
I pulled my arm out of his grip. “Not gonna argue with you there,” I retorted, scowling.
He sighed. “It’s just that ...” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You matter to me. Your friendship matters to me.”
My anger shifted to annoyance. “Fine. You want to be friends? Then act like a friend! Stop making me feel like shit all the time!”
Surprise flickered in his eyes, then he abruptly pulled me into a hug, wrapping arms around me before I could react or try to pull away. Though I suddenly had no desire to pull away from him. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “You’re in a shitty position, and I’m only making it harder for you.”
“Yup,” I said against his chest, anger beginning to trickle away. He was making it awfully tough to stay mad at him. He smelled like all sorts of nice manly stuff and I could hear the calm and steady beat of his heart.
He gave me a light squeeze. “Do I have any redeeming qualities left?”
I sighed and tilted my head back to look at him, not breaking away from his hold. “Well, you still give a fuck. So that’s nice.”
He gave me a soft smile, then surprised me by kissing me lightly on the forehead. A thrill raced through me, followed by a massive tsunami of confusion. A kiss on the forehead? What the hell was that? Should I do something? Should I try to kiss him? Was that a “we’re great friends” kiss? Or was he holding back because he didn’t want to get burned?
He tightened the hug briefly, then stepped back, making the tsunami of confusion somewhat moot—at least as far as the “should I kiss him” part went. “I do give a fuck,” he said, still lightly gripping my shoulders.
“I appreciate that. I’m sorry I slapped you.”
He frowned. “You slapped me? I thought that a mosquito had landed—” He ducked and laughed as I swung at him again.
“You are such a jerk,” I said, trying to glare without much success.
“I think that’s been well established. C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home.”
I hesitated. “Ryan, when I get there, I’m going to—”
“I know,” he said. “You’re going to summon Rhyzkahl.” He gave my shoulders a squeeze. “It’s okay. I know you need to do this.”
I searched his face for any flicker of regret or pain or angst or anything, but if he was feeling it, he was keeping it under unspeakably tight control. “Thank you.”
“I’m trying,” he said, voice low and rough.
“I know,” I said, hiding a smile. “And you have no idea how much that means to me. Which makes what I have to say next even harder.”
His brows drew together in a frown. “What?”
My lips twitched. “I’m actually not summoning Rhyzkahl. You totally wasted all of that control and maturity.”
He smiled. “Well, damn!” he said, though there was relief in his eyes.
“But I still appreciate the sentiment.”
“Good thing,” he said. “I don’t have a whole lot of control and maturity to waste on false alarms like that. So, if you’re not summoning the lord, then why do you need to go back to your house?”
“Well, you were close. I am going to summon, just not the demonic lord. But, I know that you um ...”
“Don’t care to be insulted and growled at by demons?” he offered.
“Well, yeah. I know you’re a real weenie like that.”
