“Well, I was,” I snapped.
“So you were in love with me and then you spent a year sleeping practically every night at my side, every morning eating breakfast with me, even though you thought I had feelings for another woman, and you’re not in love with me anymore,” Ren replied immediately.
That sounded absurd.
Still, I was realizing that maybe I’d landed myself in hot water and perhaps silence was the key to the hungry Italian hothead that was lying on top of me not making a meal of me.
Ren didn’t need me to participate in this discussion and give him more fodder to chew me up and spit me out.
I’d already given him plenty.
I would know this when his eyes narrowed and he noted, “A year I’ve been busting my ass to get in there and the whole fucking time I wasn’t just in there, I was in there.”
I kept my mouth shut and just gave him big eyes. Indy cuted her way out of things. She was good at it. It even sometimes worked on Lee.
I’d never tried it but I figured now was as good a time as any.
He took in my big eyes and didn’t find them cute.
I knew this when he declared, “Christ, you’re a pain in my ass.”
He stopped talking.
I didn’t fill the void.
He didn’t either.
Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and asked, “Can I go find Darius now?”
“No you fuckin’ can’t go find Darius now,” he answered and I shut my mouth again. “Jesus, Ally, you just told me you’re in love with me.”
“Uh… I think I said was.”
“So you’re not in love with me?”
I didn’t answer that.
“Ally,” he growled.
God!
I knew one thing, he never let anything go so I had no hope in hell of him letting this go.
And since I was letting it all hang out it was time to go for the gusto.
But carefully.
“I didn’t say that,” I whispered.
Instantly upon my words, his eyes got heated. It was his angry heat warring with a totally different kind of his heat and he verbalized these conflicting emotions by sharing, “I don’t know whether to fuck you or turn you over my knee.”
I decided not to give him my input because the first option I was always up for and the second one might make me lose my mind and we didn’t need any more emotion making things crazy.
Instead, I decided to change the subject and I did this by asking cautiously, “Um… what’s happening here?”
“Um… you’re officially ending this game we been playing by tellin’ me you love me?” he asked back sarcastically.
I had already pretty much done that but I didn’t point that out at that juncture because I decided at his words and tone that I felt we needed more emotion making things crazy.
And I was going to bring it.
“Seriously?” I snapped.
“Jesus, why can’t you just say it?” he returned.
“Maybe because you’re essentially ordering me to,” I fired back then kept going in order to advise, “Don’t think you can watch the Rock Chicks and think you’re getting the same thing with me. This macho bossy shit does not fly with me.”
“Clue in, Ally,” he immediately volleyed, “Watchin’ the Rock Chicks, I know exactly what does and does not fly with you, and just like every one of those men when their women serves up attitude, I don’t give a shit. And, just sayin’, that attitude, just like with them, is why I’m with you.”
“What?” I bit out.
“Babe, every one of those guys had * lined up at the door. Bitches were gagging for it. They’d do anything to get their hooks into those men and those men knew it. They didn’t want a woman who’d do anything. They wanted a woman who knew her own mind and wouldn’t do anything. Not a single one of your posse lets their man walk all over them. And not a single one lets them get away with shit. At least not without dishin’ up a fair amount of attitude before they let them get away with it which is the definition of not letting them get away with it.”
This, I had to admit, was true. At the very least, if one of the Hot Bunch got bossy, they’d get an eye roll, but usually they bought a whole lot more. Those boys might get their way but that didn’t mean they didn’t have to work for it.
I just never looked at it that way.
Ren wasn’t done.
“With your crew, you get what you see, not some twisted version who’s tyin’ herself into knots to give you what they think you wanna see. And even if every one of you and your crew are totally fuckin’ whacked in your own unique ways, it’s just you and all you. Not some bullshit fantasy that will go up in smoke the minute you get your hooks in me.”
There was a lot there, and all of it made total, if surprising, sense.
But I got stuck on one thing.
And being me, I called him on it.
“I’m not whacked!” I stated (loudly).
“Ally, you been fuckin’ me for a goddamned year, in love with me since the night we met, and pushing me away that whole time. That’s whacked.”