"You want spit?" she repeated, staring at him as he did the hillbilly thing. Seriously? He was from New York. And occasionally a mountain in Asia. But mostly New York. Definitely not a hillbilly.

But fine. He wanted spit. He'd get spit.

Sam snaked her arm around his shoulders, pressing her fingers against the back of his head and pulling him into a kiss.

There. Spit. Metaphorically speaking.