Layla takes a sip of her caramel Frappuccino, and I scrunch my nose. “What?” “How can you drink that?” I quirk an eyebrow at her as I take a sip of my flat white, enjoying the rich taste of coffee. Fucking perfect. “No accounting for taste, Ava,” she points out with a mocking smile, taunting me. “You’ve never heard me criticize your love of M&Ms, have you? So please, don’t be a judgmental bitch, and leave me the fuck alone with my Frappuccino.” I raise my hands in front of me. “No objections, Your Honor.”
