His lips twitched to the right. “Honey,” he said and held up his phone to show me he was on the very level I spoke of. “The yellowish orange stuff is honey, and I’m having no luck getting past it either.”
“That’s right. It was honey.” I scowled at his screen. “God, I hated that honey.” And typically I loved honey. Weird.
“Yeah,” he agreed, only to sigh and shut his phone off before tossing it onto a side table. Yawning once more, he rubbed a hand over his face and then stretched his long legs out in front of him.
My gaze ran over him, taking in his sneakers, worn jeans, and a snug black T-shirt. Before tonight, I’d only ever thought bitter, negative things about him whenever I saw him out and about, mostly in loyalty to Topher’s feelings and because of what Topher had told me Wick had c
