Mark sat back against the headboard, his plate resting on his lap, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere. He didn't elaborate immediately, just shook his head slightly as if trying to process everything. I shifted on the bed, tucking my legs beneath me. "What did he say?"
Mark exhaled sharply, leaning his head back against the wall. "Well, first, he made a joke—because of course, he did. Said something like 'Nice to find you dressed this time.'"
I rolled my eyes. "Sounds about right."
"Then he noticed I was grabbing food and made some crack about me being 'whipped' now, after a long night."
I rolled my eyes. "Charming."
Mark's jaw ticked. "I wasn't in the mood for his bullshit, so I just looked at him and said, 'I live here. Unlike you. I can eat whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want.'"
I smirked. "Nice."