I sleep like shit. All the witty comebacks I wish I’d said to Rhett last night run through my head like the ticker on the bottom of a news channel. He agitated me. I let him get under my skin, and I shouldn’t have. I walked away like the bigger person, even though what I wanted to do was kick him in the shins. Which would have hurt like hell because everything about Rhett Eaton is hard, and toned, and cut.
