“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 pu**y 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 f**kin’ 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 f**kin’ me for a goddamned year, in love with me since the night we met, and pushing me away that whole time. That’s whacked.”
“There were circumstances that led to all that, Zano.”
“And you took your sweet time sharing those with me, and I’ll add, did it in a goddamn motel hours away from home, after rescuing some random damsel in distress who got f**king buried alive that you met on your f**kin’ computer, for God’s sake, and you did it during a f**kin’ drama. Baby, that, all of that, is whacked.”
“Faye’s not random. She’s my friend!” I shouted.
“You met her in person last night!” he shouted back.
“So?” I asked, still shouting.
“Jesus, are we honestly fighting about the fact you’re in love with me?” he asked.
“Words you’ll never hear if you keep up this bossy in your face bullshit, Zano,” I returned (again, loudly).
He scowled at me.
Then he rolled off, shifting to his back in the bed. He lifted his hands to his face and rubbed, muttering under them, “Fuck me.”
I rolled to my side, got up on an elbow and requested to know, “If I try to leave and go find Darius, are you going to pin me to the bed again?”
He removed his hands from his face and locked eyes with me. “Fuck yes.”
“God!” I exclaimed, falling to my back on the bed with a plop.
Within an instant, Ren was looming over me.
His hand came to my jaw and his face dipped close.
I glared.