Still perched on her desk, invading her space, Chase picked up a glass paperweight in the shape of a goldfish and twirled it thoughtfully between his fingers. "I'm not the devil, you know."
"His cousin maybe?" but far too often, all things considered. He is the devil’s twin; there are no doubts about that. She thought to herself.
"Good, that mouth of yours, Miss Patterson, never seems to amaze me."
She lowered her eyes in order not to murder the asshole, suddenly a little angry at some kind of unspoken, amused criticism behind his words.
Chase pointed it out, dumping the goldfish back on the desk where he had found it. "What's with the boring outfit? I remember those nights when you were nothing but small red satin—"
Her eyes widened. "Chase! We agreed; we both agreed to never ever me
