Page 73 of Endgame

Easy for him to say.

I snort inwardly.

“What’s up?” he says.

I guess it was outwardly.

I direct my attention to my hand. Lift it, and lie. “Figures I wouldn’t get away completely unscathed this weekend.”

His features soften. “You’re actually not doing too bad, muffin. Considering.”

I choke a laugh. Tell me about it.

I slide off the bed. “And if you want to come out unscathed, you’ll stop calling me muffin.”

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