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She lifted a hand and waved it in the air like that would explain the tension between them.
“Friends talk about things. Important things.”
She turned and descended the rest of the way.
“That may be true, but in our case, I think it’s best if we keep things… light.”
“Light? Like the weather?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. I just can’t help but think there’s another reason you’re avoiding the deep topics that are actually important.”
He fell into step beside her and gently took her elbow in his hand to steer her right instead of left since he’d just come from that direction.
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Good. I don’t want to fight with you either.”
“What do you want, Oz? And don’t say me again.”
“There you go, avoiding the truth.” He heard her release a frustrated sound, convinced it meant he was getting to her.
“Okay, fine. You want me. But guess what? I’m not available. There. Subject closed.”
“You do know you can do better?”
“Do better? He’s on track to be the next governor of New York. It’s only a matter of time.”
“I guess if that matters to you, I never realized how shallow you were.”
She stopped in her tracks and faced him, hands fisted.
“First I can do better, then I’m shallow. Which is it? Hmm? Because I think you’re deliberately trying to pick a fight because you’re frustrated I won’t cave to your wishes.”
He took a step closer and lowered his head to better see into her eyes.
“I am frustrated, but not for that reason. Has it not occurred to you that he chose his career over you? Over your missing mother?”
She swallowed audibly and lowered her lashes, avoiding his gaze.
“Which is what I did to you. I’ve said I’m sorry, Oz.”
“I don’t want your apologies. I want to know that if you marry this guy and come second or fifth in his life due to his choices, that you’ll be okay. I speak from experience when I say it’s not fun being left behind.”
He straightened and moved away from her, walking on, but four steps later, she grabbed hold of his forearm and tugged.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“I hate this, okay? I hate fighting with you.”
“Then don’t. Kiss me instead.” He lowered his head because at that moment he wanted nothing more than to kiss her as deeply and passionately as he’d dreamed about last night on the swing holding her.
But Devon drew back and held up her hand.
“If you can’t handle us remaining friends, maybe we should keep our distance. I’m heading back to the house.”
