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Sweet Hatred - Chapter 337: Formentera pt 3
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... fragile glass. I huffed, stomping back toward the food tray with all the dignity I could salvage.
He followed, of course, slipping into the chair beside me like he hadn’t just manhandled me. We ate in silence after that, though I could feel his eyes flick toward me every few minutes, as if daring me to look back.
When I was full, I collapsed against the pillows with a groan. "I’m not moving again."
"Ever?" he asked dryly.
"Ever."
And true to my word, I di ...
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