I glance at Zade to gauge his reaction when I say. “No, my dad did when I turned ten.”
I knew it wouldn’t shock him, but seeing the look of admiration on his face warms me in ways I can’t explain. Meeting ‘normal people’ in college made me realize how f****d up my childhood was.
He starts to wrap up my hand. “What’s your range?”
“Dad made sure I could hit a quarter from a hundred yards out before I was even allowed to think about driving.”
Zade chuckles to himself as if in on a private joke.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing Sapphire, I just think that’s impressive.”
I eye him warily as he knots the end of the bandage. He doesn’t let my hand go, though. Instead, he knits his fingers through mine and traps my hand against the warm, solid muscle of his thigh.
I look down at the hand holding mi
