“Am I trouble?” I asked.
“No, why would you say that?”
“Because you hardly ever call me just Rosie, it’s always Rosie-kinns or...” I trailed, turning my eyes to the TV.
“Or what?” his voice was playful but I pretended not to hear.
“Nothing.”
He tilted his chin to face me and I looked at him, chewing on my lip. “Or what, Rosie?” he asked again and I reluctantly answered him, “ ‘Baby’ , you call me that sometimes.” I smacked his hand away and quickly added. “And no, I don’t want any iced tea.”
“’I’m not giving you any.” He laughed lightly as he sat beside me on the couch with his hands clasped together. I noticed he was unusually quiet after dinner so I asked. “Is there something wrong? You weren’t saying much after dinner.” I asked, lowering down the volume of the TV.
“Becca drop
