Hardin smiles and pulls me back down to him. “Would you like me to make you some breakfast, Daisy?” “Daisy?” I raise my eyebrow. “It’s early, and I’m not at my best to quote literature, but you’re grumpy, so… I called you Daisy.” “Daisy Buchanan wasn’t grumpy. And neither am I.” I harrumph, but can’t help smiling. He laughs. “Yes, you are. And how do you know which Daisy I’m talking about?” “There are only a few, and I know you well enough.” “Is that so?” “Yes, and your attempt at insulting me failed miserably,” I tease. “Yeah… Yeah… Mrs. Bennet,” he fires back. “I assume that since you said
...more
I hate you both so much
