“It’s yer one Shannon’s file,” he corrected, rolling down the sleeves of his jumper. “No doubt your obsessive ass was looking for it.” Well, shite. An unsettling surge of excitement coursed through me as I stared down at the folder in my hands. My best friend knew me too well. “When you didn’t come back to class after training, I figured you were out here sulking over her—or pining.” He shrugged before adding, “Or whatever the fuck you’d call what you did in the locker room earlier.” “I don’t sulk.” He snorted. “I don’t fucking sulk, asshole,” I bit back. “Or pine. I wasn’t doing any of that
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