Thalia jerks her hand from mine, trying to fuse with the chair. I don’t like that reaction. Not one fucking bit. My head snaps to Dean, who stops at our table, arms crossed, and eyebrows drawn together. He sways from left to right, unsteady on his feet as if he’s wearing heels instead of brown leather shoes. “Wow!” he breathes, glaring at Thalia. “Now I know why you ditched my calls and stopped serving me on the course. I knew there was more to this.”
