A long moment passes between us, in which I attempt to fathom just how much he cares for me. And nothing has ever felt so right, vowing to never fight the Enforcer again. So I smile up at him, a bead of water sliding down my nose as I attempt to tease. “If you were sick of getting your ass kicked, just say that.” The corner of his mouth lifts begrudgingly. “Oh, is that what you think?” “Let’s just say I can sense it.” I lean in, whispering, “I’m kind of a Psychic.”
