Escaping My Arranged Marriage With My Biker Student
I can’t think about anything but that dead body in the other room.
Joker leans down, his breath hot against my ear. “I behaved,” he says with that wild grin plastered on his face, as if that’s supposed to make everything okay. His eyes gleam with pride, like he expects a reward. His grin spreads wider, manic, and I groan, exasperated.
“What? I did,” he continues, his voice teasing. He looks at me like he’s done something deserving of praise, like a kid who refrained from smashing his toys for once.