It takes a long moment for my throat to unlock, and I have plans, however vague, to tell her how fucking amazing she looks right now, all fucked out and euphoric. Instead, I blurt, “I ate your banana pudding.” She pauses, blinking. “You what?” “You were in the dungeon,” I explain, a touch defensive. “It was going to go bad. I ate it.”
🤣🤣 This. This is what I miss from the first book. There was a bit more comedic relief in that one.
As Effie would say, “Goddamnit Wicker!”
