I watch Cheney, wearily, as he wipes the coffee from his skin. He pulls his shirt over his head, using it to help dry himself off. He pauses and looks up, catching me watching him.
I blush a bit and duck my head, not knowing what to say. This isn’t something I was prepared for, I don’t know how to act around this version of Cheney. “You ok?” He asks softly, using a tone I’ve never heard from him before.
“Yeah, no harm done.” My voice is a whisper, so I clear my throat. “I’m just a bit confused. What exactly happened out there?” I look back up at him, hoping that this question doesn’t bring back the cold, cruel Cheney I’m used to.
He laughs softly, leaning up against the back wall and crossing his arms across his broad, tan chest. “Mags was trying to convince me to get back together with
