Page 78 of Don't Fall

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LANE

“Lane!” she shouts my name for the third time. I can hear her wander from room to room inside our apartment, searching for me to no avail. How she still has not found me, baffles me somewhat. I made coffee and took two giant cups of it outside with me. I left the door open. The scent alone should have worked as a summons of sorts.

She sounds like she’s about to yell my name again when I spot Dick slinking his way through the curtains to meet me on the other side. At least one of them has realized the sliding glass doors to the balcony are open.

“You seriously didn’t hear me?” she huffs, having finally followed the cat out. She stares me down while I keep swaying back and forth in the hammock, my eyelids dreamily drifting up and down with the motion just to aggravate her more.

“I did hear you,” I confirm. “I liked it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You, saying my name. Over, and over again. It was nice.” I grin. It’s just too easy.

“You’re a jackass.”

“But?”

“No, that’s it. You’re just a jackass.” She slides down beside me, causing the hammock to take a turbulent swing before settling back down.

I shrug, reaching one arm around her and curling her toward me. “I can live with that.”

She flicks at my jaw when she catches me closing my eyes again. “Hey! No, sleeping. I wasn’t just calling out for you for the pure joy of having your name dance over my tongue.”

“Speaking of dancing tongues and pure joy.”

“Not making out with you right now,” she says dryly.

I sigh. “You’ll change your mind. Just give it a minute.”

Tess bites her bottom lip, trying to keep hidden any signs she finds me amusing even in the least. We both know she does. In the most possible way. “Lane.”

“So nice,” I hum, lids drooping shut.

“You paid me rent again.”

“Also, very nice.”

She lifts herself onto my chest and begins to tap the tip of my nose repeatedly with her finger until she annoys me to the point I have no choice but to open my eyes and pay attention to her. I don’t mind. To be perfectly honest, she has my attention every second of every day. She just doesn’t have to be aware of it all the time.

“Your lease ended two months ago. How are we even still having this argument?”

I smirk. “Because it’s fun.”

“How’s that exactly?”

“Well, I pay you rent. You get all huffy about it, insist I take it back. Then, I get all snarky and refuse to. Eventually, we agree on a truce. I’ll take the money back but only if I get to take you out somewhere. Then we go out, and because you want to stick it to me for annoying you earlier, you pick some place extravagant or crazy or out of the country, places that wind up turning a simple date into amazing adventures, places you would never choose if I just said, hey, let’s go to dinner.”

She moves to roll off of me and get out of the hammock, but I snag her to me tighter before she even puts so much as an inch between us.

“I don’t like you right now,” she mutters.

“Liar.”

“Fine. But I’m still not making out with you.”

I lift my head up to be even with hers, gliding my hand tenderly over the soft skin of her arm, over her shoulder until it curls around the nape of her neck. “You’re the worst liar ever,” I utter under my breath, drawing her to me until her mouth is hovering torturously over mine.

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