If he's not your boyfriend, does that mean I can have him?"
I choke. "What? No—what?"
"I mean, you're clearly not interested," she presses, flicking a look between us. "And I don't see a ring on his finger, so technically…"
"Technically, you're insane and run after every good-looking guy." Yara groans.
Yeah, I remember their argument about how Bea slept with Yara's boyfriend. Is she trying to do the same with Pretty Boy after just a single glance?
She's got to be kidding me.
Pretty Boy makes a noise that is part cough and part laugh. It snatches my attention and I turn toward him to find him smirking.
That asshole.
I shouldn't be annoyed. Why would I be annoyed? It's not like I care. It's not like I feel anything except the very normal, very platonic urge to kick him in the shin and throw him back into the hallway where he belongs.
Instead, I scowl. "If he doesn't die first," I mutter.