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I’m almost scared to ask, but I have to. “Considering what, love?”
She gestures between us, looking up at me. “Considering this.”
What is she saying?
What does she mean?
Is she going to tell me that this was all a mistake?
That what looked perfectly sensible in the dark of night all of a sudden doesn’t suit her in the light of day?
I feel my chest constrict. Of course not. What am I thinking?
We both wanted this to happen. We always had, and she agreed with me last night about this. She told me our constant bickering was just a cover-up, and, of course, she was right.
“Baby, I don’t understand what you mean.”
She lowers her gaze, her face to the side, but I make her look at me again.
“Tell me. You can tell me anything. You always could. Even before. No one else is as honest with me as you are. That's one of the things I love the most about you.”
She looks taken aback by my words, almost startled, actually.
“Lynn?”
She gulps down, and then she sighs. "All right… but… but you're not gonna like it, Devon."
“Let me be the judge of that. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. We’ll fix it. I promise.”
She gives me a little smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I… I don't remember about last night, Devon. I have no idea where I am, and, most importantly, I don't know why I am here. With you. Like this… Why are we… How could we…? We… we despise each other, don't we?"
I jump away from her like I've been given an electric jolt, my mind almost unable to process the enormity of what she is saying, but my heart is already fully aware. "Fuck!"
I start to pace in front of the bed, my head in my hands. “Are you kidding me? Tell me you’re joking, love, please.”
I know I’m grasping at straws, but she can’t be serious, right?
She stands up as well and walks toward me, the crumpled sheet clutched to her chest. “I wish I were, trust me.”
I take a step toward her. She looks so out of sorts, all I want to do is hold her, and that's what I do. She immediately sags against me, her head burrowing into my chest.
"This is crazy," she whispers, then looks up at me.
"I know." And it really is. I won't deny it is, but it's also perfect; that's true just as much.
I see a million different things in her eyes, and the ensemble almost leaves me dazed. I don't know what to say or how to say anything right now. Whatever I tell her, I'll probably mangle it, so I don't speak. I just act.
I gently take her face in my hands and kiss her softly. She resists me for a second, but then she kisses me back, her body melting against mine; the sheet, forgotten, slides to the floor in a pile at our feet.
Then she pulls back and glares at me. “What the fuck are you doing, Dev? We hate each other!”
I shake my head. “We don’t. Not really. We never did,” I tell her, staring right at her, my heart breaking at her defiant expression and very pissed-off attitude.
Lynn slaps me across the face. “Don’t try to tell me how I feel!”
I barely feel the sting. She did not put much effort into delivering it.
I take a step back. She takes a step toward me, and then she is kissing me again with all of herself, her fingers grasping my hair.
