“Don’t worry,” I drawl. “Looks better on you anyways.” The pretty blush encroaching on pale, freckled cheeks is worth Cass’ knuckles connecting with my shoulder. Amelia huffs, slumping further into her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “Does that line really work for you?” “Wouldn’t know.” I wrench my gaze from hers as I set the car in motion, steering us in the direction of the California-Nevada border. “I don’t make a habit of giving out my clothes.”
