“Dude,” he scoffs, his helmet dangling in his fingers by the facemask. “I can’t handle this bitch shit.” “Bitch shit?” I take a step forward, standing above him on the bench now, getting heated. “I’m fucking wrecked right now and you wanna call it bitch shit?!” He leans back into his seat again, eyeing my alpha-like pose before him, smirking as if it truly entertains him. As if he gets off on it.
