Come Fly With Me (67 page)

"You
might
not
realize
this,
but
I
don't
need
you
to
feed
me
like
I'm
some
pet.,"
Allison
said
as
she
tightened
the
belt
on
her
robe.
"And
if
you
really
took
the
time
to
look
at
me,
you
might
have
realized
that
I'm
not
too
happy
to
see
you."
She
pointed
at
herself.
"Look
at
the
expression
on
my
face—do
I
look
happy
to
see
you?"

"Come
to
think
of
it,
you're
never
actually
happy
to
see
me.
But,
I
can
tell
that
I'm
growing
on
you."

"Yeah,
like
a
fungus,"
she
mumbled.

He
reached
into
the
cabinet
to
take
out
some
plates
and
turned
on
the
tap
to
run
water
for
the
coffee
machine.
"So,
what
will
it
be?
Poppy,
sesame,
blueberry,
garlic,
everything?"

She
stood
silently,
her
arms
folded
across
her
chest.
He
looked
entirely
too
comfortable
in
her
kitchen.

"Surely,
something
here
can
please
you."
He
moved
closer
and
pulled
her
into
his
arms,
"As
I
recall
you
weren't
that
difficult
to
please...maybe
I've
got
the
wrong
idea
here,
trying
to
satisfy
you
with
a
bagel."

"What
is
it
with
you?"
She
shoved
him
off.
"Is
it
a
power
trip
to
get
me
riled
up
and
then
see
me
lose
control
while
you
stay
in
control?"
Allison
asked.

He
eyed
her
thoughtfully,
"What's
the
problem?
The
cowboy
can't
satisfy
you
the
way
I
can?"

"Stick
to
the
subject,
this
conversation
is
about
you;
I'd
think
that
would
be
your
favorite
subject."

He
leaned,
preparing
to
kiss
her.

She
gave
him
another
shove.
"Don't
flatter
yourself."

"I
haven't
done
anything
that
you
haven't
given
consent
to,"
he
said
as
he
stepped
back
an
inch.

"An
inch?
That's
all
the
space
you
give
me
when
I'm
telling
you
I
feel
taken
advantage
of
and
undermined?"

"I
apologize
if
that's
how
you
feel.
I
thought
we
were
having
some
fun."

She
looked
at
him,
"Is
this
'sensitive'
Alex'?"

He
bobbed
his
head
enthusiastically.

"I'm
not
buying
it,
but
I
am
hungry."
Realizing
how
futile
it
was
to
talk
to
him,
she
caved.
"Fine.
Toast
a
poppy
bagel
for
me
while
I
take
a
shower."

"Only
if
you
say
please."

"Are
you
going
to
teach
me
to
heel,
next?"

"If
you're
into
that
kind
of
thing—I
would
certainly
enjoy
it,"
he
wiggled
his
eyebrows.

"Grrr,
are
we
back
to
that?
You're
completely
impossible."

She
stalked
off
toward
the
back
of
the
loft
and
gathered
her
clothing,
yanking
open
drawers
and
making
a
racket.
As
she
turned
toward
the
bathroom,
she
saw
Alex
leaning
against
the
wall.

"You
might
want
to
put
on
an
extra
layer,
we're
going
ice-skating,"
he
said.

"We
most
definitely
are
not
going
ice-skating."

"Come
on,
it'll
get
your
blood
circulating.
They
say
couples
who
share
sports
activities
have
better
sex.
"

"Have
you
been
listening
to
anything
I've
said?
Has
anyone
ever
told
you
that
you're
delusional?"
She
threw
her
hands
in
the
air.
"We're
not
a
couple.
We're
not
going
ice-skating.
We're
not
having
sex."
She
slammed
the
bathroom
door
shut
with
enough
force
to
make
the
lights
blink.

He
whistled
a
happy
tune
as
he
went
to
toast
her
bagel
and
wait
for
her
to
get
dressed.

She
stalked
into
the
bathroom
and
remembered
the
last
time
she'd
been
this
furious
with
him.
It
had
been
at
Becca's
inn
and
that
whole
trip...Actually,
as
she
thought
about
it,
he'd
shown
a
caring,
protective
side
of
himself
she
hadn't
thought
him
capable
of.
Her
fury
deflated
as
she
realized
that
he
was
in
possession
of
some
human
decency,
after
all,
and
decided
to
put
on
a
pleasant
face
and
join
him
in
the
kitchen.
Maybe
his
Harvard
educated
brain
would
prove
handy
as
she
tried
to
finish
off
the
puzzle,
she
thought
as
she
toweled
off.

****

Allison
made
a
short
stop
at
the
wall.
Alex
skated
up
smoothly
behind
her.
"Where
did
you
learn
to
skate
so
well?"
she
asked.
"I
doubt
there
are
many
ice-rinks
in
Georgia."