I snatch the cup away from him, hissing, “What is wrong with you? Just leave it if you don’t like it.”
He plucks the cup back out of my hand, puts it to his mouth, and drains it in one go. Slamming it down, he grimaces. “You’ve developed some strange tastes since coming here.”
“You didn’t have to drink it if you hated it so much!”
Now it’s Cedric’s turn to look insulted. “Of course I did. You made it for me.”
Flustered at his reasoning, I pick up both cups and move to the sink to wash them. I need to do something with my hands to distract myself. Fortunately, he doesn’t follow me.
“This hut is too small.”
“It’s not a hut,” I say irritably. “It’s my house. And it’s not small; it’s reasonably sized.”
He stands up, and my eyes are inadvertently drawn to him. Cedric is not a short man b
