Marie’s POV
I’m still mad, in case you were wondering. I did not appreciate when Cooper launched himself through a sliding glass door to attack the guy who was macking on me, nor did I appreciate when he insisted on taking a patrol spot right next to me when he hadn’t even heard the extent of Nolan’s pitch yet.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. I did appreciate both of those things. How could I not?
I’m still mad, though.
“Want me to cook up this salmon in your fridge?” he shouts to me from the kitchen.
I’m in my room, steadfastly avoiding him. I glance at the clock on my wall and see that it’s nearly nine o’clock at night. Granted, I never ate dinner, but isn’t it a little late at this point?
Then again, am I really going to complain about someone offering to cook me a salmon dinner?
