Infiltration (33 page)

“Awww,” she said, like someone admiring a cute puppy. “That is so sweet.”

School had been out for a couple of hours, and we were sitting next to each other in a booth at Jackman’s (which was fast becoming our regular hangout), sharing a sundae. I’d brought her up to speed on everything that had happened — especially Pronto’s efforts to become her beau.

“That’s what I thought, too,” I said, “when I first learned about it and thought maybe you had cast it on me.”

“Oh, please,” she said in mock arrogance. “Do I look like I need a magic spell to get someone to fall for me?”

“Well, you wouldn’t be saying it was sweet if his plan had worked and we’d actually broken up.”

“That wouldn’t happen,” she said, scooping up another spoonful of ice cream.

“And why not?”

She seemed to contemplate this for a moment before answering. “Because you love me.”

“I do?”

“Yes. You’re wild about me, but it wouldn’t be kosher for you to admit it because I might start taking you for granted, like girls are known to do. I might start thinking that I don’t have to keep working hard for your affection.”

I laughed. Empathically, I could sense her emotions, so I knew what she was doing. I decided to play along.

“No, babe,” I said with a grin. “You’d never take me for granted. You worship me.”

“Hardly,” she said, smiling back at me. “If I really worshipped you, I’d buy you flowers more often. Maybe some candy every now and then as well.”

“And if I worshipped you, I’d stop dragging you to chick flicks every time we go out.”

“I deny it every time anyone asks, but those movies are actually growing on me,” she said, almost in a confidential whisper. “But we’re getting sidetracked. The point is that, even though I may test your patience a lot with my cockiness, hotdogging, and grandstanding — especially during training scenarios—”

“Hold on,” I said, stepping out of the roles we were playing. “I do
not
grandstand—”

“Quiet!” she insisted, putting a finger to my lips. “Let me finish clarifying how you feel about me.”

She removed her finger and gave me a light kiss on the lips before going on.

“As I was saying, you love me, and — assuming I don’t cross certain lines — I don’t foresee you breaking up with me any time soon.”

“You’re right. I couldn’t bear the thought of breaking up with you. My life since we met has been a whirlwind romance and has made me a much better person. Before you, I was antisocial, standoffish, and well on my way to being a shut-in. Thank you for saving me from that.”

Her eyes sparkled a little, and she leaned in to give me a kiss.

“Wait a minute!” she said, drawing back just before our lips touched and giving me a severe, withering look. “You’d better have been speaking as
you
and not
me
with that last comment!”

I laughed, invoked my Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination, and then gave her a kiss.

THE END

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