Bonnie froze the soapy dish, sliding through her fingers.
"What did you say?"
"I like hanging out… With you."
She studied his face, but he was intent on drying even the thought of wetness off the plate.
"But…"
"You're sweet, and I… I'm like bourbon. I'm bitter."
"So you're saying I can't handle you."
"More like you are too sweet for me."
Bonnie squinted before a smirk graced her face.
Damon, I'm about as sweet as a lemon. All we need is a little honey, and we'd make a Gold Rush.
Damon couldn't suppress a worried smile.