“I really am sorry, Mickey.”
“I was wrong.”
God, she’s so damn stubborn.
It was impossible to keep track of whom the hell I was supposed to be more annoyed at. Our score sheets looked pretty damn even from where I was sitting.
I gave a loud sigh out of sheer frustration and grumbled, “Do you plan on ignoring me all night long?”
Her hands stilled, fingers remaining tangled in my hair. Then she suddenly seized a couple of fistfuls – none-too-gently, might I add – and nearly jerked me clean off the damn shower chair.
Yeah, she did that. I kid you not, she actually fucking did that.
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