“Don’t be bitchy,” Vince admonishes. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you cold, unsatisfying carrots.”
Reza snaps his jaw once, revealing his teeth in a faux snarl before his lips drop back into a pout.
Vince gives no credence to the burst of warmth in his torso. “Tell me why you don’t want to talk to Finn.”
“I don’t like him,” Reza says at full volume. Vince cranes his neck back and sees Finn staring at them from across the room, head c****d like he maybe heard that.
“Yes you do.” Vince says it slowly. “You like him more than you like me, I’m fairly sure. Can tell by how you’re actually nice to him.” He scratches his arm. “Comparatively.”
“That’s not—” Reza bites his lip, cutting himself off with a frustrated sigh through his nose.
It’s a thing he does, Vince’s noticed, like maybe he
