"Who are you? Why do you care so much?"
Sophie Sullivan was fuming, staring at him. Wasn't he enjoying hugging Amelia Shaw just now?
What did he want from her now? Lacking affection? He should go find his Amelia Shaw; why did he come to her? Looking for a beating?
In her eyes, Thomas Shannon saw a murderous intent, a desire to slaughter him. He chuckled, lifted his hand, and placed it on her head.
As if teasing a pet, he patted her head twice. "What's wrong? Still moody?"
"You're allowed to flirt, but I can't be moody?"
Sophie Sullivan swatted his hand from her head, snorting coldly and mercilessly. "Don't touch me. You're disgusting."
Disgusting? She dared to find him disgusting?
Thomas Shannon's smile vanished. "Are you asking for a beating?"
"The same words, right back at you."
"Say that again?"
A corner of Sophie Sullivan's mouth lifted. Fine, I'll say it. Who's afraid of whom? "Thomas Shannon, if you don't want to get beaten, stay away from me."
