But he hadn’t said what I’d hoped. Now I felt so overwhelmed by emotion that I thought I would burst if the words weren’t spoken. Think of a pot that boils over even after you’ve slammed on a lid.
Something had to give.
“I love you.” The words floated out of my mouth as if from only the slightest provocation.
“What?” Zane asked.
“I love you.”
He leapt from the couch so fast that I took a free fall onto the cushions. Thank God the landing was nice and cozy. He grabbed the remote, pausing the movie, which froze Bill Murray pointing a finger at William Atherton.
My boyfriend paced the room like I’d just told him that his life savings had been drained by a cyber hacker. Not exactly the response I was looking for.
“Hold on,” he said. “Can you say that one more time?”
“Can you dig the wax out of your ears? I won’t have to repeat myself.”
“Yeah sure, whatever.”
“I love you.”
“Yes!!” Zane clapped his hands together, did a spin move, and then proceeded to strut around the room, snapping his fingers. Thank God he stopped himself short of dancing the Charleston.
“Are you going to be okay?” I asked.
“Hell no!” His ear-to-ear smile flatlined. “I mean, uh, yeah, I’ll definitely be okay. I’ve never been better.”
“I’m glad my little announcement makes you feel so good.”
“It does a whole lot more than that, my good man. It makes me feel like a million bucks. You know why?”
“Tell me.”
“Because I gotyouto say it first! Ha, ha, I win!”
Zane Hirst might’ve chosen to explore his tender side but that didn’t make him any less obnoxious.
“That’s fine by me,” I said, “especially since I figured you would be too chicken to say it first.”
Initially, he seemed not to notice what I said. It passed through one ear and out the other, like most of the thingspeople say to him. When my meaning finally hit him, he did a doubletake.
“Wait a second, what did you just say?”
“I said you were too chicken to say it first. And I stand by that. Bock, bock, bock, bock, bock!”
I rose from the couch and took my turn dancing around the living room like an idiot. Only I flapped my arms like wings and clucked like a chicken. Somehow, I truly believed that Zane Hirst still managed to look like the bigger moron.
“Stop that, would you?” he said.
“Make me. It’s a free country, bub.”
Zane’s face went stony, but I knew it wasn’t because he actually felt angry or even legit annoyed. If anything, he must’ve felt put out that I’d dampened the ridiculous celebration that he seemed to relish.
“Jakob!” He put his hands on his hips to show he meant business.
But I wouldn’t quit. I was having far too much fun mocking him.
“Someone call Colonel Sanders,” I said. “We need to fry you up with his original recipe. Extra crispy!”
