“Then there’s something wrong with you,” Gibsie shot back, not missing a beat. “Because that girl is insanely sexy and you’re thinking about rugby.” “Hey,” I warned, bristling. “Don’t call my girlfriend sexy.” “Why not?” he taunted. “Don’t you think she’s sexy?” “Of course I think she’s sexy,” I spat out. “I think she’s a lot of fucking sexy.” Gibsie waggled his brows. “Is that so?” “Yeah, that is so—but that’s not the point.” Flustered, I shook my head and pointed at him. “You don’t say that she’s sexy.” I narrowed my eyes. “You keep your beady little eyes off her.” “Well, it’s the truth.” He
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