“There you go calling me pretty again,” he grumbles. “You are kinda pretty.” Soren turns to us from the passenger seat with a charming smile showing off the dark scruff on his face. Ollie chuckles at me. “I think you’re growling. Are you trying to growl? Fuck, that’s adorable.” “I’m not growling,” I argue. “I’m not that dumb. Soren could snap me in half.” “I’m not after your man,” Soren says.
