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“You knew me well enough to come on both my hand and my tongue.”

Kota groans a third time.

“Neither of those times I even knew it was you.”

“Well…” Damn. She’s got me there. “What do you want to know?”

“You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m fucking joking? Ask me a question.”

She raises an eyebrow, so I raise both of mine.

“Why are you always injured? Where do the cuts and bruises come from?”

Shit. It was bound to come up, I just… Fuck, okay. I can do this.

“Fights.”

Her jaw drops. “All of them are from fights?”

I don’t know how it can be that hard to believe. She saw me in action last night.

“I, uh… I have a tendency to rub people the wrong way.” Which is true. I just leave out the part that I do it for a fee.

Kota’s face relaxes.

“How often are you getting into fights?”

“Whenever I need to,” I say honestly, proud that I haven’t lied yet.

At least I got that on Guy. Dishonest fucker.

“What do you like to do for fun?”

“Cuss.”

“That’s…not really an answer.”

“You want like a hobby?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have hobbies. I…like music, I guess.”

“Just not by TLC,” she teases. Seems the only time she lost last night was while she was in the bathroom, which is understandable. Nobody wants to remember puking.

“Apparently not,” I joke. “I also like driving around. Now that I know how.”

“What about food?”

“I like that, too.”

“No. What’s your favorite thing to eat?”

I smirk. She said thing.

“Khaos.”