“I know, OK?” I muttered. “I said I was sorry.”
“Yes, you did. Now I want you to prove it.”
I glanced up at him. “O-kay...how am I supposed to do that?”
“That’s simple. You behaved like a child so I’m going to treat you like one.”
I hunched my shoulders at the c word--not that I could protest. He was right; the clock seemed to have turned back and instead of the mature thirty-four-year-old I’d become, I was acting more like the teenager I’d been when I’d left. “Meaning?”
“I think you deserve a spanking for the way you treated me.”
Time froze all around me and my face froze along with it, torn between a perplexed frown and a laugh. I stared at him, unblinking and he stared back. It was a surreal reminder of the staring contests we used to have as kids, which was what tilted the scale toward laughter. “Come on, Brody,” I said when I finally found my voice. “That’s not funny.”
“It’s definitely not, and I’m dead serious.” His eyes showed me that he meant every word; there wasn’t an ounce of laughter to be found in them.