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“I don’t think that about you.”
He laughed. “Right.”
“Tabon.” She waited until he was looking at her. “I don’t think that about you,” she said a second time.
Again, he turned away from her, only this time, she could see the hurt in his eyes.
“You asked me to stop,” he said.
“When?”
“I was telling you how I feel about you, and you said it wasn’t real.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“No? I didn’t mishear you, Ava.”
She drew her knees up close to her body and wrapped her arms around them.
“You were a fantasy, Tabon. My fantasy. There wasn’t a breath you took the day I met you that I don’t remember. I’ve played every word you said to me over and over in my head.”
“Fantasies rarely live up to the hype.”
“Are you fishing for a compliment?”
“Hardly. I’m being realistic, Ava.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He turned his head and looked at her, which was what she’d been going for.
She smiled. “No one ever calls me Avarie, except you.”
“I hate it when you call me Razor.”
“I know, and you’re right. I only call you that when I’m mad at you. I do it in my head too.”
“What do you mean?”
I always think of you as Tabon, but when I’m mad, you’re Razor in my head too.”
“I guess that’s better than ‘asshole.’” He leaned closer to her. “Can I kiss you, Avarie?”
She nodded, and he covered her lips with the sweetest, most gentle kiss. It almost brought her to tears. How could she have told this man that she hated him? Especially since all he’d ever wanted to do was protect her?
“Okay, you two,” said Saylor. “The girls are tired, so I’m going to take them home, but—”
“What?” asked Tabon.
Ava looked up at his house, like his sister was.
“Who is that?”
“That’s Monk. He’s hangin’ with us for a few days.”
“Someone you work with?”
Tabon nodded.
