“Stop,” I clipped. “You and I may have started out as a hookup, but you know damn well that’s not the case anymore. Don’t insult me by pretending that this isn’t real. It’s fucking real, Wren. So, if you’re having a bad day and need me to rub your feet while you talk, then let’s sit on the couch and get at it. I’m not just another meathead athlete who’s hoping to get up your skirt.”
