“You lot seem tense,” I murmured. “Nervous about something, Myndacious?” The fidgeting sounds stopped. “Do you have some moral compunction against saying my name?” “Is Myndacious not your name?” “I told you the night we met to call me Rory.” “And I might have. But then we got to talking, and suddenly there was nothing about you that made me want to encourage familiarity.” “Job well done. Vomiting on my favorite boots is a surefire way to keep things formal between us.” I glared back at him. “You’re remarkably difficult to like.” “You’d like me better if you called me Rory.” “I’d like you
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The banter is insaneeee
