I narrowed my eyes because I had no answer.There was no sarcasm sharp enough for that sentence. No sweet, poisonous comment I could throw without hitting something inside myself. So I did the most mature thing I could think of.I looked at Theo’s slippers, which had already been spiritually destroyed. “You need to go home.”Zach blinked once, and then he smirked. “Home?”“To your brother’s house.” I pointed at him from head to toe. “You’re dirty.”He looked down, as if only now noticing that his black T-shirt was stained with dirt, his jeans were muddy at the knees, and Theo’s slippers had lost the right to be called Swiss goods.“Fair point.”“A miracle. We agree.”“I’ll shower first.”“Good.”“Then come back.”“No,” I said.Zach was grinning now. I hated how the mud did nothing to ruin him. Another man would have looked like he’d lost a fight with the yard. Zach looked like the model for an expensive perfume campaign conceptualized by a woman with father issues.“I haven’t had dess
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