Babysitting the Mafia Princess
She wanted to punt her out a window.
“Sky,” he muttered, “Let’s just go home.”
He stepped past her toward the door, stopping just inches from her shoulder.
Close enough she felt the warmth radiating off him.
Elisa gasped dramatically, like she’d just witnessed someone cancel Christmas.
“Wait…hold on,” she squealed, rushing forward in her sparkly heels. “You’re leaving? Already?? Sky, that is literally so lame.”
Sky’s head whipped around.
“Excuse me?”
Elisa folded her arms, hip popping out with Olympic-level smugness. “You just got here. And you’re gonna dip because your babysitter got a little messy?”
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