hold Thorsten’s confused gaze as I push the stem of my wineglass over, toppling it onto my plate. The crystal shatters, chipping the china, flooding the salad with blood-colored wine. “Well,” I say, as I sit back in my chair, laying my hand on the surface of the table with the watered steel blade clutched in my palm. “I guess it’s just you and me now.”
HOT GIRL SHIT
