~ Adeline ~

I can't tell I'm zoning out until he sighs-deep, slow, that quiet exhale he always does when he's half-relieved and half-annoyed. Then he reaches out and flicks me on the forehead.

Hard enough to sting.

I wince, pressing my fingers to the spot. “Ow—Ron—”

“Next time,” he says in a low voice, but it's steady, “you call me the second someone touches you.”

I narrow my eyes. “I handled it.” I say, completely dispelling the idea of confessing to him now. ...