DAMIEN’ POV
“What flavor did you get?”
Aria looked at me, an ice cream cone in hand. Her teeth were chattering because she insisted on biting down on the ice cream instead of the normal way people take ice cream.
“I got strawberry tornado, whatever that is.”
She wrinkled her nose, smacking her lips.
“Do you like it?’
Her lips pursed. “Can I go change?”
“No.”
Her nostrils flared. “The f**k do you mean?”
“I mean, no. Rules are rules, as you said.”
She groaned and stamped her foot. It was her fault, after all, making me stick with the butterscotch that I got, which tasted terrible.
I was merely returning the favor.
“You have problems, Aria.”
She turned on me. “That is not very nice.”
“Are you pouting?’
She smiled sheepishly. “So, tell me about Damien Blackwell.”
Master at chan
