“What are your thoughts on the subject?” I ask Fox. “Have you developed any? I’m happy to let you share mine.”
He gulps, and his face turns a splotchy reddish-purple as he most definitely forgets to breathe.
I nibble on some goldfish, pulling my feet up beside me on the couch and arranging my skirt so that it stops flashing Wolfe my shorts. Not that he’s looked, because he is a gentleman through and through, but still. We’re discussing my liaison with his brother here. I should havesomeclass.
“I have my own thoughts,” Fox informs me. “Though I’m wondering if I should share them or not at this time.”
“Sounds like something a No Thoughts, Head Empty would say,” I observe.
He narrows his eyes at me. “You know,” he says slowly, almost angrily, “the phenomenon wherein men fall in love with infuriating women who drive them to the brink of insanity is truly fascinating.”
That… was not No Thoughts, Head Empty. That was, in fact,BigThoughts, Head Full.
I set down my fourth muffin and fold my hands primly in my lap. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”
“No,” he refuses. “Unless you plan to stop being flippant when I’m clearly having a breakdown because I just kissed you to the point of abandonment of your morals and values. I take it back. Gentle and kind? Not super necessary. I would appreciateserious, though.”
Still caught up on what Ithinkwas Fox telling me he’s in love with me, I have no response.
Fox, discovering patience, does not rush me. He sits, nostrils flaring as his sky-blue eyes rage against the shock in mine.
Wolfe clears his throat. “Usually when two people sit down to communicate, they do it without aggression.” He coughs. “Confessions of feelings are typically shared without aggression as well.”
Fox shrugs.
Okay. So. That did seem like what I thought it seemed like, then. Immediately after I told him that I am joyfully going to use this newfound kissing to manipulate him into behaving the way I want, he appears to have confessed to being in love with me.
“What’s going on?” I ask. Just in case.
Fox doesn’t answer, so Wolfe answers for him with a beleaguered sigh, “You want to continue kissing Fox because he’s attractive and you enjoyed it and you can use it to get what you want out of him. He maybe does, maybe doesn’t want to continue kissing you because he’s madly—as in angrily—in love with you.”
“I don’t get it,” I tell them. “Like…at all.”
“You’re not stupid,” Fox snaps. “Don’t act like it.”
Irritation simmers in my chest, and I snap back, “You’re right, I’mnotstupid, which is why this doesn’t makeany freaking sense.”
“Which part doesn’t make sense?” he asks. “The part where I’m a whole person with whole feelings?”
“No,” I hiss, leaning toward him over the coffee table. “The part where you’re supposedly ‘in love’ when all you’ve ever done is be a massive jerk to me. This isn’t kindergarten. I don’t believe in boys being mean to girls because they like them.”
The potty mouth cusses. “I’m notmeanto you,” he denies.
“Liar,” I retort. “You’re a jerk and you know it.”
He grunts. “Well, it’s not because I’m using it as some sort of idiotic flirting ritual.”
“Thenwhat?” I ask. “What could possibly make a man who ‘loves’ someone treat them with constant disdain and disrespect?”
His jaw clenches, and I see red.
“No,” I snap. “You came up here to communicate, so you’re going to communicate. Because you being ‘in love’ with me puts an entirely different lens on us kissing. It wasn’t two people reluctantly attracted to each other letting their base instincts take over to add another layer to the game they already play. It was something else entirely, and I deserve to know what, exactly, it was.”
His eyes darken, loathing at the forefront. “It was me losing my mind and doing something I shouldn’t have. It was me taking something that isn’t mine yet, and can’t be mine any time soon. It was me losing my hold on the self-control I thought I was close to mastering.” He bends, shoving his hands through his hair as he groans. “It was me, making a stupid, rash decision and not thinking about the consequences.”
I watch as he crumples further into himself, shoulders scrunching and breaths going ragged as he pulls at his hair and mutters insults at himself, one after another.
“Are you kidding me?” I bark. “Sit up and exit your self-flagellation. I’m not dealing with this situation alone because you can’t confront big feelings.”
