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“Jiggly?” I looked down in horror. I wasn’t jiggly; I was too young to be jiggly. I bounced a little on my toes, and they moved, sure. But that was normal. Wasn’t it? “They’re not jiggly!”
“Perhaps it was a bad choice of word.”
“You’re damn right, it was!”
“I merely meant that they tend to sway a bit when you . . .”
“When I what?”
“Do anything, really.”
I sighed and hunched over. “Does this help?”
Pritkin didn’t say anything.
“Well?” I demanded.
“They’re a little . . . large . . . to be easily concealed by—”
“They’re not large!” I did not have large, jiggly boobs, damn it. I had nice, pert breasts. I’d always been proud of my breasts. I just didn’t want to flash the parents, that was all. “They’re the perfect size!”
“No arguments here.”
I stared at him, because coming from any other guy that would have sounded flirtatious. But Pritkin didn’t flirt. He did, however, pull off the hoodie he was still wearing and put it around me.
It was warm from his body and it smelled like him. And the fact that he was being an ass didn’t stop me from clutching it for a second, and the hands that were trying to zip it up, not wanting to let him go. Stop it, I told myself harshly. I was going to get him back. I was going—
“Where are we?” he asked softly.
I just looked at him silently for a moment. And then said what had to be said. “I’m taking you back.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“And how are you planning to stop me?” I looked pointedly down at his hands, which had tightened on the soft cotton of the hoodie. “By chaining me up? Because that doesn’t work so well.”
“No. By expecting you to use your brain. You said you need weapons—”
“And you have them. So hand ’em over!”
A lip quirked. “They are tools. I am the weapon. Without me they would do you little good.”
“I’ll take that chance!”
“No, you won’t,” he told me again, sounding certain. “You’re smarter than that.”
“If I was smarter, I’d have figured out some other way to do this!”
“Perhaps there is no other way.”
“Perhaps I’m losing my mind,” I muttered.
“It’s not so bad, once you get used to it,” he said, making me do a double take. Because Pritkin didn’t do funny, either. “Can you at least give me the general layout?” he added, before I could comment. As if we’d settled something.
And I guess maybe we had, since I automatically replied, “There was a parking lo—no. That came later. There should be a bunch of trees, like a small wood.”
Pritkin nodded at something behind me. “Those trees?”
I looked over my shoulder, and then turned around. The fog made sure I couldn’t see too well. Not even Tony’s house, which should be somewhere off to the right, assuming the gray lumps along the horizon were the trees in question. I couldn’t tell for sure, since I didn’t remember there being quite that many. And because my eyes weren’t interested in trees.
