“Fine.” I smiled sweetly back at him, knowing that a person caught more flies with honey, and said, “You have nice eyes.” “Nice eyes.” “Uh-huh.” Reaching for the cereal box, I refilled his bowl and then added some more to mine. “You said stop asking questions, so I’m paying you a compliment instead.” “Why?” “Why not?” “Why, though?” “Because it’s nice to be nice, Joey.” “You are a really weird fucking girl,” he grumbled, looking thrown off kilter, before begrudgingly adding, “With nice legs.” I grinned back at him. “Thank you.” He eyed me in disbelief. “You’re welcome.”
