Jo had known the minute she pressed her lips against his that she'd made a tactical error.
There was a spark, alright; a spark that had already ignited the flames which burned her brand new house down.
She wasn't surprised when Zane's arm shot out to grab hers, as she tried one last time to walk away. And God knows she could have stopped him. If she had wanted to. If she had tried.
But Jo was tired. She was tired of fighting the constant, powerful currents that ran between them. She was homeless, again; it had been a long and stressful day, during which she'd nearly killed her closest friend.
And maybe she wanted a little comfort.
So when the man who had more than just smoked her out of hiding reached out to her, she let him (she'd never thought of him as an overachiever, but, dear God, as attention-getting went this was beyond the pale) and when he pulled her close and kissed her - with careful deliberation and genuine fervor - she let him.
But when she met his intensity with her own pent-up frustration and desire, when she wrapped her arms around him and cupped his cheeks in the palms of her hands - that was all her.
This time, Zane was the first to pull away, and for a moment Jo felt a flash of raw panic, which she stifled immediately. She steeled herself - for what, she didn't know. He didn't go far, but let his forehead bump gently against hers, their noses brushing. He rubbed a soothing hand down her spine; he'd felt her stiffen at his retreat.
"So that's what nothing feels like," he teased gently, his breath brushing her cheek. "Funny how I would have mistaken it for something."
"Always with the jokes," she muttered, with no real heat behind her words. Zane continued stroking her back softly, a small smile gracing his lips.
"You secretly like them," he informed her smugly. She tilted her head back to get a better look at him.
"I do?" She asked pointedly. He gave her a little grin.
"Yep. You do," he informed her, an eyebrow raised, daring her to tell him otherwise. She bit her lip, looking thoughtful, and then slid her arms down from his neck. Zane's breath hitched with sudden fear, but Jo slipped one arm around his waist and looked up at him, her expression seeming almost shy.
"Tell me more about this alternate reality of yours," she said pertly. "It sounds truly fascinating." Zane barked a surprised laugh and looked at her appreciatively.
"Well," he said, leading her out of the smoldering ruins of her home, "you think it's cute when I leave the toilet seat up..."
"Try again." Jo said, rolling her eyes.
"...I get to sleep in to eleven, every morning..." Zane suggested hopefully. Jo snorted.
"Not hardly, weekends maybe but only until ten - " He cut her off.
" - I'm not always the one in the handcuffs - " Her next words stopped him short.
"We'll see." Jo said, a secretive smile curling her lips.
"...wait, seriously?" Zane nearly ran into her mailbox, he was so preoccupied staring at her.