“Then tell me your name.” “Will you go away if I do?” I incline my head in an almost-nod. I’m lying, though. I don’t plan on going anywhere. Not when she’s being such a hissy kitten. It’s so keffing adorable that I want to grab her and squeeze her against my chest. “Tabitha. Not Tab. Not Tabby. Not Bit or Bitsy. Tabitha. The whole thing.” “And not Barlia,” I agree, practically beaming at her. “Tabitha.” “That’s right. So if you’re going to bother me, at least have the decency to call me by my name.” She lingers in the doorway, eyeing me. “It’s called common courtesy, Jrrru.”
Well he finally got her name ...and a lesson in manners
