“She called you a cockwaffle. Or was it a twatwaffle?” she asked Charlie. My cheeks flamed. “You’re dead to me, Violet.” Gareth squeezed my hand and peered down at me, his expression warm. Not a hint of anger at all. “Whatever she said,” he held my gaze, “I’m sure I deserved it.” Holy hell. I could not handle this version of Gareth.
