“Tastes like ass to me.” She hated me. Why wouldn’t she? I had spent every moment since she’d gotten back reminding her I hated her. My fingers tripped over the knife, almost dropping it. I cursed softly. It didn’t help that I couldn’t look directly at her. That her existence was a stench I couldn’t un-smell. She was here now, not only in my territory but deep inside my head. Running circles in her little boots. I was just not used to having her in my vicinity. I’d get over my weird fixation in the next few weeks. Maybe even days. You’ve gotten over her. She’s the past. But if that was the
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