Forces of Nature

Let the Fun and Games Begin... And the Bickering

What felt like hours later but was probably no more than ten minutes, I lifted my head from where it was buried in Tyson's chest and gasped in surprise. We were no longer in the heart of the cemetery, but back out in the parking lot standing beside his Mustang. How had that happened?

"Noah?"

I jerked at the sound of his voice so close to my ear and pushed away from him, suddenly extremely embarrassed.

"Oh, my God," I muttered, scrubbing my hands down my face. My cheeks were positively burning, and I found myself wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole. Jesus Christ, I had to have set some kind of world record when it came to making an idiot of myself in front of him. I leaned back against his car, embarrassment causing a groan of misery to escape me. "Oh, no."

Tyson wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged my hand away, peering at me cautiously.

"What is it?" he asked, tugging the other hand away too.

I refused to meet his eyes, instead looking somewhere over his shoulder. "Nothing. I just... It's just..."

He arched an eyebrow, and seeing as I had no pride left - was there anything mortifying he hadn't yet witnessed? - I took the plunge and blurted out the truth.

"I feel like a complete idiot. I told myself I wasn't going to lose it, that I could handle being here, and then I go and have a complete breakdown, and you're probably scarred for life now and -"

"Wait, wait, wait." I stopped talking and risked a peek at his face. He still had a drowsy look about him, and was blinking more than usual. He was also perplexed. "Scarred for life?" he asked, and I got the distinct impression he was holding back laughter.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yes, scarred. Horrified. Traumatised. Whatever works for you. I know how guys get when a girl cries. They wish they were anywhere else, doing anything else. And I'm sorry, I really am, I didn't -"

Then the weirdest thing happened and I didn't know whether to be relieved or offended. Tyson was laughing at me. Not a suppressed giggle either. No, he had his head chucked back, shoulders quaking, the deep throatiness of his laugh wafting around me. If I wasn't so shocked at his reaction, I might have done more than gape.

"Hey!" I finally snapped, going for offended after all.

He recovered quickly, all traces of humour leaving him except a small smile and amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I just can't believe you think you damaged me because you cried. I've seen you cry before, remember?"

An image of the bridge incident flashed through my mind and my cheeks blazed all over again. I folded my arms tightly over my chest. "Please, don't remind me."

Another chuckle. God, this guy picked the worst time to develop a sense of humour. Especially since it seemed to be at my expense. "And as I recall," he continued. "I didn't need psychological help to recover from it. So I think I'll be fine this time, too. And next time."

I scoffed at him. "What makes you think there's going to be a next time? Contrary to what you've seen so far, I don't go around blubbering at every available opportunity. I'm not a cry baby."

Tyson regarded me thoughtfully, his expression turning serious. "I didn't say you were. And there's no shame in being sad, in crying. People do it all the time."

"Even you?"

He was quiet for a long time, so long I thought he wasn't going to answer, or was about to give me some macho nonsense about how guys never cried because it wasn't manly. But not for the first time today, he surprised me by nodding his head, his gaze boring into mine.