LOGAN
Ethan’s smug grin made my fingers twitch with the urge to break something, preferably his face. Maybe knock out one of his teeth, just to see if he’d still be laughing.
Instead, I shoved my hands into my pockets, keeping my pace even as we walked back to the press area.
"I had no idea it was that serious," he mused, voice thick with amusement. "So, which came first? The mistress or the cleaner? She's got a humiliation kink I wasn’t aware of?"
I stopped abruptly, turning to him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass.
"Say that s**t again, and I’ll make sure you leave here with something broken."
He chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "Relax. I didn’t know you were so protective over her."
I rolled my eyes, continuing forward, but his words stuck like a thorn under my ski
