Del
I stare at him, speechless. So he did hear me talking to Geneva, or maybe she called him right after she called me. Whatever the case, unlike him, I at least have the decency to pretend I am embarrassed by my actions. My very childish, impulsive actions.
“So, maybe I did, what about it?” I ask, my head raised royally in defiance as I stare him under the nose, which I must say is mighty impressive having in mind he’s way taller than me. The glint in his eyes only intensifies at that as he dangles the bag of food in front of me.
“And you call me immature,” he finally says, walking past me into the house and heads right for my kitchen.
“Excuse me, what are you doing?” I ask, following him like a fool into my own house, my voice raised with an octave.
“I brought you food, silly,” Dzha
