She stopped, she stood staring at him, and she settled back crookedly over one hip, one knee bent, one heel up, as she dangled one of the bottles in front of Devin — but not close enough he didn't have to sit up and reach from where he was comfortably slumped down in our couch, remote in hand, watching one game in progress and flicking back to check the other hadn't started yet. "You have to try for things you really want," she said to him with her face down and her eyes up through their tops, fixing him through her fallen strands of dark coffee-toned and wavy hair. She did a messy job of tying it behind her neck. She grinned at him up one side of her face when he blinked slowly and turned his eyes from the screen to her.