Sabrina looks at me, trying to read my expression. "I wouldn't have cared if they weren't cheering me."
I chuck a grin. "That's because you've always been classy."
"Classy. You think I'm classy."
"I know you're classy.”
Sabrina gives me that look. And I cross my arms.
"What?" she asks.
"You're still mad."
"Am not."
"Are too."
I look down at the coffee cup cradled in my hands. I'm quiet. "What else do you see in me? Don't stop now. You're on a roll."
Her voice is quiet. "You're still hurt. Still angry, from the past. Still holding back."
I nod, feeling sad.
"And when you're holding back, you're frustrating as hell. And when you don't..." She hesitates, her ample chest rising and falling. "You're the most attractive man I know.”
My chest heaves again. I shift on the couch.
"And
