“On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?” “Fourteen,” he hissed, pulling on my hair. “And a half.” “What the fuck is this?” I laughed, bucking him off my lap. “Who taught you to pull hair? Shannon?” “Actually, it was your girlfriend,” he countered. “When she was screaming my name.” I narrowed my eyes in warning. “Tadhg.” “Yes, Tadhg, yes!” he mocked. “I’m warning ya.” “Oh, Tadhg, you’re so much better than Joey.” “You little shit.”
