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And, like me, maybe she is not so cocky, she is not so strong, and she is not so much in control in front of it.
"Lynn, did I make you nervous? What you felt, what was happening to me before on the dance floor. Is that why you ran?"
That’s it. This is the best I can do. I can’t be more articulated than this about it, not with her standing in front of me.
She looks up at me. "Of course, I ran away. This is crazy, Devon."
I feel the corners of my lips turn up. She can make me smile by saying something as simple as my name.
“What?”
“You actually used my name.”
She glares at me. “A temporary slip of the tongue, I assure you.”
"Didn't they call this kind of thing a Freudian slip or something like that?"
“Man, you are an annoying bastard sometimes! No, scratch that: you are an annoying bastard most of the time.”
I beam at her, “And you like it.”
She narrows her eyes at me. "What? Make it a crazy bastard rather than a simply annoying one, then."
I nod, cupping her face in my hands. “You do.”
I kiss her lightly this time. Tenderly. I want her to feel how much she means to me, how much I love her, but I can’t tell her. Not yet.
She snatches her lovely lips away from mine and looks at me. “Okay, so maybe I do… you are hot, I should be blind not to… like what I see, but that’s not the point.”
“And what’s the point, doll?”
Lynn huffs and rolls her eyes, and then she pushes me away. She points her index at my chest. "You can't stand me!" she states. Then she points at herself. "I can't stand you," she enunciates each word. "It's as simple as that."
I take a gamble. “You know as well as I do that what you just said it’s not true.”
She growls a little. "Oh, please! This is insane! We… we hate each other, for God's sake!"
I try to breathe evenly and keep my nervousness in check, even though I'm a fucking wreck. I'm more than a little drunk, hard as a rock, confused, and a little bit scared, but I have to try. I can't lose her. "This is just a game we play, baby. Think about it. We fight, we scream at one another, we push each other's buttons, we—"
She speaks over me, a smile on her lips. "We have to have the last word all the time. We can't ever leave it well enough alone, and we thrive on driving each other crazy."
I frown, and she laughs, and then she is kissing my frown away.
When she breaks the kiss, she is still giggling. "Boy, I'm so drunk! But I've never felt so… so free, so… myself as I do now."
I gulp. What does she mean?
“So, I’m right then. You don’t hate me. You… you feel the same way, you—”
She interrupts me again, her fingers on my lips. "Welton, please! You could never be right, not against me. Not completely, at least. I do hate your guts, and you do hate mine, but tonight I understood something, and so did you, I think."
I feel my eyebrows rising. I kiss her fingers, scraping the digits with my teeth. “And that will be?”
She smiles up at me. "We love to loathe one another. A fine line and all of that… you know." She giggles. Actually, giggles. I don't think I've ever heard her giggle this way. I love it.
“We do?” I feel my face crack in a smile as I look down at her beautiful upturned face.
Lynn nods knowingly. “I think it’s a cover-up...”
