“I think I’m good. You’re a little needy for my taste,” I apathetically reply. He gasps, placing his palm on his chest. “Needy? Josefine Resendiz, I’m anything but needy.” A small chuckle claws out from the back of my throat. “Yeah, okay, Daniel Garcia.” “Don’t mistake my willingness for neediness because I’m more than welcome to show you just how needy I can make you.”
