Damon makes a sound of disgust. "Could you not discuss your sex life while I am eating my pancakes?" My eyes fall to his plate in amusement. "I expected more from you, Damon. Something more savory or spicy—like eggs benedict or the souls of your enemies. Pancakes, really?" "What the fuck is wrong with pancakes?" he snaps. "Nothing," I mutter, shaking my head. "Nothing at all."
