Chapter 122 Playing The Game

• Ethan was lying flat on my leather couch, casual cool irritatingly as annoying as always. His tie hung loosely around his neck and his shirt was buttoned open at just the right place to show off the shape of his collarbone. I hated how effortlessly attractive he looked—like he owned every room he walked into.
• You’re quiet," he said, shaking the whiskey in his glass. "Second thoughts already?"
• I shot him a glare from across the room. "I don’t have second thoughts, Ethan. However, when I do want to work things out in my head, I am oh so capable of that too," says she.