The second he did, a pop sounded. Then magenta glitter flew into his face and all over him. A few choice words left his mouth in Spanish before he turned, looking like he’d just gotten a glitter facial. “Fallon,” he growled. She beamed at him. “I felt like you hadn’t learned your lesson quite yet.” “Sparrow. That crud gets everywhere. We’re gonna be picking pink glitter out of the mats for months,” I complained. She simply shrugged. “Worth it.”
