“I meant it when I told you before how pretty you are,” he said, his voice husky. “Will you take your shirt off?” “Gross, Ant,” I said. He set the camera down and came over to the bed, dropping beside me. “It’s because I’m too nice, isn’t it?” I started laughing again. I didn’t think what he said was particularly funny, but laughing seemed easier than arguing. I stopped only when I saw Anton’s expression. He had a stony look. I scratched a bugbite on my arm. “What’s wrong with you?”
