“Listen here, Joey Lynch.” Sitting upright, she grabbed my chin and turned my face to look straight at her. “I saw you first. You’re my friend, not his. So, stop worrying about my dad, and start focusing on me.” “Technically, your dad saw me first—“ “You’re mine, okay?” “I’m not yours, but whatever.” Huffing out a breath, I attempted to fold my arms across my chest, only for Molloy to loudly clear her throat expectantly.
