“File the questions away, would you?” He says, rummaging through his duffle. “This is me, being me.” He rolls his gaze up and puckers his lips sourly. “Well, that’s annoying.” “Kiss my ass,” I sass back. In a sudden move, he stands, grips my shoulders, and tilts my body before his gaze dips. “What the hell are you doing?” I ask, craning my neck over my shoulder. He playfully rakes his lower lip, his brows lifting. “Seeing if you have enough ass to kiss.”
