He drops back down to the ground and covers his face with his uninjured arm. “If you’re going to yell, can you do it a bit more quietly? My head is pounding like a son of a bitch. I think I nose dived into the tile.” “You better be glad you’re hurt. If you weren’t, I would rip your balls off with my bare hands.” “I think I’ve been a bad influence on you,” he says, smiling even though he’s nearly ghost white beneath his tan. “You’re far more violent now than you were when we first met.” “I wonder why?”
