“‘Lizard King,’ hmm?” Zion chuckled as he held the shirt open in front of him to read it. “Like Jim Morrison?” “Who?” I frowned at the floor, trying to remember which supe went by that name while out of uniform. His rumbling laugh washed over me like a drug. “It sounds like I need to teach you about classic rock, B. That’s cool.” Zion’s voice turned sultry. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” Oh, my goddd…
